The Journey Home
by KESwriter
Summary: Spencer Reid has been missing for fourteen months. When they find him, he is not the same person. But he may be the opening move in a dangerous trap. Dr. Maya Selzer finds herself caught in the middle as she prepares to help Reid by "bringing him home." Expect further revisions in the future.
1. Chapter 1: Wheels Up

I own none of the characters in Criminal Minds.

A special welcome to new readers: If you're like me, sometimes you come here, play with the search features and look for a recently completed story to enjoy in one sitting as opposed to checking the site daily for new chapters. I am not going to lie. The first few chapters are little rough around the edges. I didn't know where I was going with this thing for a while, but be patient. In some ways this is my world that I am inviting the BAU into. This story analyzes some of the running themes of the show. I'd also kill for some new reviews. PLEASE REVIEW!

I have very little working knowledge of the field of psychology, so health professionals might have a harder time maintaining a suspension of disbelief. Please be patient as you read the first chapter.

Chapter 1

Wheels Up

The first thing to keep in mind, is the fact that I am a fairly normal person. My name is Maya Selzer. I am thirty-eight years old. I am five-seven with brown hair that I keep at a length of three inches below my chin. I grew up in a suburb outside San Diego, California. My parents are happily retired former teachers. I have two older brothers, both architects, who dote on me as their baby sister. I have a slightly above average I.Q. which lead me to skip two grades. I was your typical science club nerd and endured mild bullying. I majored in psychology and attended Med. School at Stanford University.

I am a staff supervisor and the Worthing Mental Health Institute (the place has gone through a variety of name changes, but this is one that is currently considered the least menacing). The Worthing Institute is an extremely private mental health facility just outside Sacramento. Our "specialty" is treating trauma-induced psychological disorders. Our clientele typically consists of wealthy battered spouses and children. We have a large in-patient facility that consists of apartment style suites and a handful of hospital rooms. So why I am I telling you all this? To set the stage for what comes next.

I was sitting in my office reading case summaries late in the afternoon when a young secretary's blond head appeared.

"The Queen request's your presence in the main conference room," she said.

I sighed as I grabbed a note pad and got up. When Shannon Davis calls for me, it is always for bad news.

The sight that greeted me confirmed that it was indeed bad news. Five people sat around a single large table. Melvin Morris, a beefy man in his his early fifties with thick brown hair and a graying beard. He was the lead child therapy psychologist who's jovial personality got under my skin. Next to him were two of his therapists under his supervision. Their names are of no importance. Tina Burns, a mousy white-haired woman in her late fifties who specialized in battered woman cases. And finally Brooke Slade, a red-head in her early forties who was as alternative therapy specialist. As for me, you'll figure that out soon enough.

"Hiya Maya! It appears that the Stockholm Squad has been assembled," Melvin said. I glared at him as I took my seat. I truly hate that name for what we deal with.

Shannon appeared as if on cue with a stack of folders. "Your cutesy names for this situation belittle seriousness of cases we are about to examine."

Shannon was a no-nonsense woman in her mid-fifties. Her gray hair was set in a bun that was very that made her look older. The reason I mildly "dislike" her: She was an easily irritated egomaniac who liked to throw her staff into the deep end of the pool and watch them struggle.

She turned on the computer screen to the left. "We have been called in by the federal government to help assess the situation in Cortland Wyoming."

I almost felt sick to my stomach. It was all over the news right now. It was referred to as the "Cortland situation" because it was the only town within a hundred miles of where the actual crimes took place. A boarding school of over sixty girls who had been reported missing was found there. Most of the details were still under wraps, but it appears that the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit was called in after three dead missing girls were discovered by the local Park Rangers.

"The age of the girls ranges from eight to eighteen," Shannon said as she pulled up a picture of the schools. It looked it was a gray box of a building that looked menacing. There were bars on all the windows.

"What type of abuse has been found?" Tina asked.

Shannon actually looked unnerved by the question. "We don't know yet. The problem is, the criminals had figured out the feds were coming and destroyed all the evidence of the chemicals and physical torture devices. The lead perpetrators opted for suicide by cop. This is an extremely small town, the hospital is still in the process of examining the girls."

"Are they verbally responsive?" I asked.

Shannon shook her head somberly. (I should mention that she is very good with dealing victims and their families and keeps her claws retracted during these situations.) "The girls are practically mute. They only give one word answers. The parents that have arrived so far are having a hard time re-connecting with their once-lively daughters," she said.

Those who had been taking notes stopped. Now everyone was looking at Shannon, waiting for the next emotional bomb shell.

"The last thing worth mentioning at this point is how the girls were dressed." She pressed a button and three sets of dresses appeared. They were all gray plaid jumpers with white collars.

"The whole situation reminds me of a combination of what Jane Eyre might have looked like if it were set on the prairie," Brooke said.

Shannon nodded. "The similarities don't end there." She gave each of us a set of thick file folders. "This is what the FBI has sent us so far. Since the discovery was only made late yesterday evening, they have requested that we arrive tomorrow morning to give them and hospitals more time to interview the children and examine the school with a fine tooth a comb for more clues about what happened. Be at the landing strip five-thirty. That is all." Shannon promptly left the room.

We all stared at each other. We were wondering what else Shannon wasn't telling us.

…

I'd like to take the time to explain a few things about how this kind of team works. We are not directly associated with the government. We are one of the three largest mental health institutes that specialize in child abuse-related cases. They do not pay for our private jet (they could care less how get there just as long as we get there in a timely manner). Our job is essentially triage work: We assist local therapists diagnose the extent of the mental trauma. In situations like this we do not stay long as most parents are desperate to take their kids home. We compile assessments and have the file attached to patient's medical records. When dealing with parents we are careful about what we say and advise (the subtext being "demand") them to seek psychiatric treatment in their home towns. Again you must be wondering, "What is the point of all of this?" Patience is a virtue my friends.

The jet is about ten years old and has a musty smell to it. The seats are a brown leather-like material. The coffee-maker barely works. I have only been in it one other time and I still have nightmares about what I saw two years later.

Melvin's underlings can't stop looking around. "Well this ain't Air Force One kiddoes. But she is a well-oiled machine."

I resisted the urge to tell Melvin that this not a car that the gravity of the earth ensures that is stays firmly on the ground as rest of the world-weary team arrives.

It is a two hour plane ride to Wyoming. Once in the air, Shannon briefs the team on what else has been discovered, which was basically nothing. Everyone bent down and silently began to take more notes either on paper or laptops. Shannon then motioned for me to come and sit with her in the more private section of the jet. This was the moment I was dreading.

She motioned for me to sit on the other side of the small table. "You will be working on a set of cases like the rest of the team, but I am sure you have noticed that it is not as large."

"So what is so important that we needed to be two thousand feet above the ground to discuss?" I tried to hide the irritation in my voice, but I hate her cloak-and-dagger tactics.

Shannon ignored the menace in my voice. "I assure you that this is a case that requires thorough discretion. We did find an adult who had been reported missing fourteen months ago. They believe he knows nothing about the criminal activity going on in the school. He simply worked as a middle school teacher and was actually trying to protect the girls when the FBI arrived."

I had no idea where this was going and was starting to feel sick. Shannon pulled out a folder with an FBI logo on it. I slowly opened the folder and choked when I saw the picture.

"Spencer Reid?"

At this point I'd like to mention that my field of specialty is Dissociative Identity Disorders. More commonly known as, multiple personality disorders.


	2. Chapter 2: Horror Has Many Faces

I'm sorry my first entry was a little rough. I completed it at 1:00 a.m. so my thought process wasn't as cohesive. To address some hopefully forthcoming comments: This will be more of a Reid story eventually. I have read a lot of Reid-centered stories on this site and many of them are good, but it seems like there aren't as many written from an outsider's perspective. As for the rating: I do not plan on delving too deeply into the gruesome aspects of the crimes. Some mature themes will be addressed later in a very discreet way.

Chapter 2

Horror Has Many Faces

Quick Wiki facts about Wyoming: It is a mostly mountainous region where one of the main industries is mining. A large portion of the property in the state "belongs" to the government in the form of national parks. It is one of the least populous states in the country. In other words: An ideal place to stash sixty girls if you are extremely familiar with the area.

We arrived at Jackson Airport at around 7:30. I should also mention at this point that I am not using the real names of most of the locations. It was a chilly gray day in April here. The reception area was crowded with people. Not just ordinary people: Parents who appeared to have grabbed whatever clothes they could fit in a carry-on bag to get on the first plane available. pestering people about whether they had ever seen a mountain lion. I truly felt sorry for the "civilians" tasked with handling some aspect of this very tragic situation.

Escaping the attention of the press, we all loaded into a large nineties-model van. Our first stop was the hotel to claim our rooms because even though we were doctors on assignment, the managers had dozens of people waiting for a room. I made sure to pull out a few of my therapy tools before leaving. The hospital that would serve as our base of operations was an hour away from the actual school. It was a simple matter of size and resources. This was the largest hospital and most of the girls would end up here at some point before being cleared to go home.

The van pulled up in front of a modern concrete structure. Members of the team nodded tersely at me as they climbed out and Melvin wished me good luck. I was the only member of the team who would be going further. I was surprised though when Shannon also got out.

"I thought you were going to meet the FBI with me?" I said, trying not to betray the anxiety I was feeling.

Shannon smiled at me assuredly. "I thought it would be best that I should stay and manage the command center from the beginning. I am meeting an agent here who will be giving me a complete analysis."

This was the first flagrant (technically second, but more about that later) act of manipulation she had perpetrated. She was sending me to meet a team of FBI agents who were struggling to comprehend what had happened to one of their agents. They are highly trained in analyzing some of the most heinous acts committed by man. But I also knew all that training went out the window when situation became personal.

…

The Cortland Sherriff's Department was a one-story brick building the size of a middle class home. The van had to drop me off a block away as streets were clogged with cars. My understanding was that some of the post-abduction situation management was being handled in a near-by grade school that had been closed with the secondary purpose of shielding the students from the media circus that had invaded their town. A rookie deputy at the end of his rope aggressively tried to keep me from crossing the barricades until he finally stopped shaking long enough to read my credentials and find my name on his list.

I showed my credentials to a secretary and she motioned for to go into the Sherriff's office. I was dressed in a navy pants suit with a white blouse slightly mismatched with a sturdy brown heals carrying a knock-off designer messenger bag. I wondered how these agents would "profile" me.

I knocked on the door. I was greeted by a sharply dressed man in his late forties. I knew he was in charge before he opened his mouth.

"Dr. Maya Selzer? Welcome." He quickly motioned for me to come in. The four other people in room sitting at a table looked as though they hadn't slept in days.

"I am SSA Chief Aaron Hotchner. Dr. Selzer these are agents Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, and David Rossi." They all nodded when their names were said.

"Everyone this Doctor Maya Selzer from the Worthing-"

I cut him off. "A formal introduction isn't necessary Agent Hotchner. I understand we are working under some sort of time deadline." I took a sat down and pulled my notes. "My report said that Spencer Reid was being kept here but gave no other information. Would someone please explain the situation?"

They all averted their eyes briefly. Hotchner spoke for the team. "After the school was evacuated, Spencer Reid refused medical assistance. When we used our finger-print scanner to prove that he was indeed our missing agent, he understood but informed us that he had no wish to seek psychiatric treatment to recover his memory." Hotchner took a breath. "The doctors could find no medical basis for keeping him. The detectives had determined that he had no involvement in the criminal activity-"

"So you decided to hold him for seventy-two hours," I said, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice. "How much longer can you legally detain him?"

"Until eight o'clock," he said. The look of shame on a man in a suit that sharp only looks good when the wearer is going to jail for money fraud.

I checked my cell phone. "It is 10:47." I tried to look less like infuriated. "I truly did not come here to be the bad guy. But having said that, you have ten minutes to explain why I wasn't called in sooner."

Hotchner looked away. "It was my call to make. I-

"It was a unanimous decision," Morgan cut in. "Hotch isn't taking the fall-"

"We thought we were the only the ones who could reach out to him," Jareau said.

"In hind-sight, we were being arrogant," Rossi said. This was the first the first rational remark I had heard.

"We know him better than anyone else. Why wouldn't we be able to help him recover his memories?" Prentiss said. Someone else was starting to say something but I had to stop them.

"Did someone take notes during your sessions?"

Prentiss pulled out notebook and each member of the team took turns explaining how they approached Reid. My agitation grew. I gave them another five minutes to explain his reaction.

Spencer Reid reacted with defensive anger. He was agitated, but not physically volatile. He felt guilty about not being able to protect the girls, despite the evidence presented showing how the abuse happened beyond his perception. The main theme was that he wanted to leave and move on with his life. He knew he was an FBI agent named Dr. Spencer Reid, but now he was a teacher named Mathew Gray.

I knew they were all holding back information, but I had heard enough. I got up from my seat and picked up my bag. "Take me to see him please."

We walked through a series of narrow halls. I had met Spencer Reid once before. It was during medical conference in Orlando of all places. He and I were in the same group giving presentations in the afternoon session. I was presenting an article on the origins of divergent personalities that had been published recently and Reid was giving some talk on the psychological evolution of serial killers. I couldn't stop watching him. He looked like the kind of guy almost anyone older than ten could beat up and he seemed very aware of that. Yet he spoke with surprising confidence. People were really listening to him, as opposed to nodding and smiling whenever I ever looked in a certain direction.

His knowledge was his armor and his weapon. When I spoke with him before and after the session, he was extremely shy and couldn't look me in the eye as we exchanged compliments. He was in no way my type, but I couldn't help but wonder what it might have been like to have him as a friend.

The interrogation room was steel-gray. I looked through the glass and it took every inch of my strength to not let my reaction show to the agents.

A man with slightly-shaggy brown hair was pacing around the room. He was dressed in a red dress shirt and khakis. His shoulders weren't hunched over. His hands weren't twitching. He was wearing cheap but stylish glasses with a gold trim. He looked up and stared straight into the window a few inches to my right. Mathew Gray "looked" at us with pure disdain.


	3. Chapter 3: When You Love Some One

When I write, I write in sprees. These are the parts of the story I have mentally constructed in my head the best. Please review if you have the time, and happy reading!

Chapter 3

When You Love Someone

I walked into the room. "Hello Mr. Gray. My name is Dr. Maya Selzer"

I sat down with my back facing the window. Reid stood in front of me. "Are you here to find this Spencer that the FBI loves and adores and want to take home with them?"

The hardest part of DID consults involves resisting the urge to react differently to each change in persona.

"I am here to help you get you out of here as soon as possible," I said crisply.

"And how is talking to you going to do that?"

"You have been treated very poorly. The agents have good hearts, but they have acted so irresponsibly that a lengthy disciplinary hearing is in their future." Reid blinked and I saw my opening. "Have a seat Mr. Gray. I am here to get the facts."

Reid slowly sat down. "They kept talking to me like I was a child. The women looked like they were about to cry every time I spoke. The one muscular guy called me 'pretty-boy.' Did he flirt with me when I was a one of them?"

I am fairly certain that a hole was being punched in a wall at that exact moment even though I couldn't hear it. "What makes you so convinced that you don't want them in your life?"

Reid took a deep breath. "Spencer Reid is a different person. From what people have said, I was a genius agent with this team that tracks down serial killers. My earliest memories involve teaching, which I love. Trying to recall a life that involved staring at pictures of death daily doesn't appeal to me."

"We all have pasts Mr. Gray. Are you afraid of what you might find if you think too much about how you became Mathew Gray?" I asked.

Reid sat back and closed his eyes. "I have been doing that every moment when I wasn't in here. Memories of my past, such as my childhood, I can't see them but I can feel them. The feeling of loving hands. My face growing hot when I became upset or someone upset me. Most people can't remember all of their birthdays and live normal lives. Does the fact that I can't remember most of mine mean that I can't have a normal life?"

Based on that one answer alone I could write an entire paper. For ten seconds I indulge my fantasy of writing an article that would ensure unrestricted access to grant money for all of my projects. I looked up and Reid was staring at me with genuine curiosity.

"Where did you go?" he asked.

I felt embarrassed being caught out of focus. "My dream job. So besides getting out of Wyoming, where do you want to go?

Reid thought for a moment. "I want to go a place where people don't expect me to be the one with all the answers. Please don't misinterpret what I just said. I know that I have a high I.Q. a deteriorating selective eidetic memory, and can speed read. I just don't want to be a walking computer. I crave a life with people who don't think of me as their child prodigy. My past is extremely hazy but, what I want-need is normalcy."

"You know normalcy is vastly overrated," I said casually.

"I won't know until I find out," he said.

I begin arrange my notes in a folder. "This interview is nearly complete." I rummage through my bag. "All I ask is that you indulge me in one little exercise."

"And what would that be?"

I pull out my battered old portable chess set. "One game is all I ask." I open the board and begin to lay out the pieces. "And what will this prove?" he asks suspiciously.

"Sometimes our problem solving skills reveal more about how our minds work than our verbal interactions." I finished arranging the pieces. "Choose a color." He looks mildly intrigued. "White," he said. I pull out a set of timers and we start the game.

I feel the urge to stroke my ego by mentioning that I was the president of the chess club in high school and college. My opening moves are more subtle and indicate that I preferred a slower pace. But Reid was relentless. His hands were a blur as he slapped the pieces on the board so hard that all the pieces shook. I felt like I had to hold my breath to even try to keep up with him. He beat me in less than three minutes. I ducked down so that he couldn't see my face as I packed up the game. Nothing confirmed my assessment more than what just happened in the last five minutes.

I stuffed everything else in my bag. "I will be back in two hours with the information that should help conclude your stay in Wyoming."

I stood up and offered my hand to Reid. "This was an enlightening experience Mr. Gray. Thank you for being so candid with me." Reid stood up and paused for a moment. "You were not what I was expecting." We shake hands as two people with mutual respect for one another. I walked out of the room feeling less sad and more determined.

Any positive feelings I had developed dissipated. The whole team was standing against the wall looking at me like I was the scum of the earth. Rossi was the first person to speak. "What was that?"

I took a deep breath. "I don't need to tell you that observing what happened is not the same as engaging in it." Avoiding the gaze of everyone else, I turned to Hotchner. "Is there a place where I can get a cup of coffee and some form of edible sustenance? I would then like to find a private place to compile my final assessment."

"You'll be ready to debrief us in an hour after just one discussion with Reid?" he asked.

Hunger was decreasing my tolerance of this belligerent questioning. "Sir I understand that you're more tired than I can possibly imagine. But right now I am imploring you to help me mentally and physically recharge in order to do my job."

Hotchner's face softened. "Local families are bringing dishes of food and fresh coffee to the school foyer. I'll make a phone call and to find out if an office is available."

I let out a breath of heavy exhaustion. "Thank you!" Hotchner turned away and began to dial numbers. "I hope you have a professional assessment written up," he muttered.

It was only for the sake of Reid that I didn't run out of there and figure out how to hitch-hike out of this state.

...

The coffee was good and the plate of chicken noodle casserole brought back fond memories of my childhood. What I really needed was a shot of adrenaline, at least a couple adderall, and a Red Bull to complete a trinity of dangerous temporary energy supplements. But the coffee and casserole warmed my heart and that might be my strongest shield.

The team was assembled in the sheriff's office again. I could smell a whiff of eaten food, which meant their irritability levels were tempered slightly. But then again food also produced energy which could be turned into physical rage. I tried to brush that thought away. The worst emotion that I could possibly show was fear.

I noticed on the table there was a laptop with streaming video of woman in with pink highlights in her white hair. She was wearing a rainbow-colored top with a series of the gaudiest plastic accessories I had ever seen.

"Dr. Selzer, this is Penelope Garcia. She is our technical analyst and a vital member of our team. She is also the ever-bright ray of humor and optimism at the heart of our unit."

Garcia blushed and smiled. "Oh Hotch, you do know how to make a girl feel special."

"I thought that was my job baby-girl," Morgan said teasingly.

"A girl can never get enough love," she said.

After listening to that exchange I realized how much these people truly loved each other. I wondered why Reid wanted sever all connections. It then occurred to me that this kind of love could be suffocating. This was an intense lifestyle that no amount of love solely from a work-related "family" could ease the emotional beating on the on the body.

I looked up and realized that the chatter had died down and everyone was staring at me. "Dr. Selzer, you may begin," Hotchner said with an air of authority. I pulled out my notes, took a deep breath and began.

"Please keep in mind that this is preliminary report based on observations and my specialized working knowledge of dissociative identity disorders. Spencer Reid has been held against his will for approximately fourteen months. In my report you will find data I drew from to determine a series of estimates as to how long it might have taken for Reid's mental state to be altered based on known, remotely, similar cases as no psychical evidence to indicate what tactics were employed to force Spencer Reid to alter his identity. The only possible evidence of how his mentality was changed is through his body language as recorded on video. There are very few cases where the body language has been completely altered after extensive periods of abduction. And of these cases, the most common method used involved lengthy, intense, physical abuse.

Through my observations I have been able almost near conclusively determine that Spencer Reid is mentally stable. He has a lucid understanding of the fact that his mental identities have been severed by period of time where he lacks proper memories of his abduction. He doesn't remember being an FBI profiler and has expressed a firm desire to not a re-engage with his network of colleagues.

My conclusion is that Spencer Reid poses no threat to himself or anyone else. He should be allowed to change his lifestyle without any form of supervision. There are no scientific ways to determine when and what memories he will recover. As he is fully aware of his mental disassociation, I can state with significant confidence that he will seek professional help when needed. His name along with any other name he chooses to help establish his new identity will be flagged in the any healthcare system. By doing so, the three best-equipped mental health facilities in the country will be alerted to prepare to accept him as a patient for long-term treatment if necessary."

I finished reading my report and looked at them. It was now time to take kid gloves off and be thankful that none of them lost their tempers.

"The bottom line is this: Spencer Reid is gone. You lost him fourteen months ago. The person you found is a man named Mathew Gray with Reid's DNA. Any further attempts of contacting him will cause more harm than good. No one is questioning your love and dedication to your former team member and I personally can't begin to understand the painful emotional roller coaster you are all going through. Having said this, I feel the need to point out any further attempts at connecting with Reid might possibly stem from a sub-conscious partially justified belief that you are the only people in this world capable loving him better than anyone else."

I think I could actually figure out from the expressions on their faces who wanted to wanted pounce on me and who were trying to figure out the most painful way to kill me and how to dispose of my body.

Rossi was the first to speak. "Are you saying that this kid with huge gaps in his memory can being alone?"

I was ready to pounce on him when the blond woman piped up. "What about using alternative therapies to uncover some of his memories? I can't imagine him walking the streets and suddenly having a psychotic break."

It was Morgan's turn to jump in. "Reid is so messed up in the head right now that he can't see that we are the ones trying to help him!"

I looked at Prentiss and Hotchner. "You don't have any of your own objections to add?"

They turned to each other and nodded. Prentiss spoke. "We think your conclusions are extremely off."

"How can you possibly determine what is best for Reid after one interview?" Hotchner said quietly. He then stood up and raised his voice. "You are not a profiler! You cannot possibly begin to comprehend the magnitude of consequences of what you are suggesting. Given how little we know about how he was brainwashed, he could become our next Un-Sub!"

At this point I wish I had a gun. I can't remember if I wanted to use it on them or myself. I'm guessing it was a toss-up. But I stood my ground stared at each one of them in the eye and then focused on Hotchner. I lost my temper.

"Where do I begin? I think I'll start with the fact that Spencer Reid is not a kid anymore. He is 33 years old. Most of my friends started families at around that age. He is not your child. You need to stop acting like the grief-stricken parents trying reconnect with their semi-mute daughters in hospitals right now."

"I think the rest of the comments are related to a single theme. Let's say we get him admitted in a hospital or psych center willing to risk losing their license to practice the only forms of untested experimental therapies that I know of that could rapidly recover at least six months of memory in a full-grown adult. Think of a case that involved the most disturbing form of torture you ever encountered and try to imagine how it could have possibly been made worse. If he remembers that within a short period of time the shock could cause him to fall into a permanent coma. There is always the razor-slim chance that he could come out as the Spencer Reid you know and love. But would you really want to make that gamble?"

"And finally, Agent Hotchner, you are absolutely right the about the fact that I know very little about Spencer Reid." I grab his file off the table. "There are far too many holes in his history! The few details about how he was tortured for two whole days and nights even though there is video footage somewhere buried online. No evidence of subsequent psychiatric therapy is available. There is a reference to a substance abuse problem that most likely stemmed from his experience but no information on how you, addressed the situation! There isn't even a support group listed. And how about his 'exposure to a dangerous bio-hazard?' I have feeling that information is highly classified, but no seemed to have even made an effort to indirectly describe how his health was affected. Then there is fact he was shot in the leg. A truly painful injury that is usually treated with some kind of narcotic. Again, I found no explanations as to what other methods may have been used help him cope."

I turned and stared at each one of them again and allowed for my face to soften. "You couldn't pay me to do your job. You see the worst things humans are capable of doing on a regular basis. I do not know how someone as young as him with no previous law enforcement experience was recruited by BAU and I question the wisdom behind such a decision as someone with a psychiatric background. Again I am going to ask you this: Are you willing to endanger his current stable, potentially happy, mental state by forcing him recover and possibly relive some of his worst memories to get your 'boy genius' back?"

You could hear a pin drop in the room. They looked shocked by my answers. They are some of the smartest people in federal law enforcement. They just got "schooled" by a shrink who spends most of her time in an office in the suburbs of Sacramento. I know I shouldn't be feeling good about myself right now but I feel as though I finally obtained some level of respect.

A minute of silence passed. The realization that my reasoning was sound was starting to fully sink in. I felt part of my heart breaking as I watched their faces crumble. They knew what was coming next.

I walked towards the door. "It is time to say good-bye to the man you knew as Dr. Spencer Reid"


	4. Chapter 4: Set Them Free

I know this is extremely long for a single chapter. The chapters should get a little shorter as the stage is being prepped. Right now I want to put you in the mind of the protagonist who, though tired, still has a lot think about. And if you read it through to the end you might find a little trivia quest.

Chapter 4

Set Them Free

Hotchner called to have Reid brought into the interrogation room one last time. I felt something like a bellwether as I led the agents through the halls. "I ask that you all keep your good-byes brief as you hand him your card with contact information on it." No one said anything.

Reid was standing behind the table in the room. He looked up at me exasperated. "Well?"

"I have given them my psychiatric assessment and they have agreed to all of my recommendations. I feel it that it is in the best interests of all parties involved to engage in one final act of closure. Are you willing to meet with the people who knew you as Spencer Reid one last time to say good-bye?"

"Does that mean that I can leave as soon they're done?"

I knew that the agents outside the door probably felt like they had just got stung. Then again, Reid is the one who has been kept in a box for no reason except to have is mind picked apart.

"After everyone has exchanged their good-byes, I am going to stick around for a few minutes to complete my report. Now, may the agents come in?"

Reid nodded. I walked to the door knocked. All the agents filed in as if they were in a funeral procession. Garcia had been invited to join in, but she was too upset. I had a plan in place to protect Reid from being tracked down by her that involved calling in a favor from the CIA I hadn't planned on ever using except to get broken out of jail if I were ever found wrongfully guilty of murder.

Hotchner was first. "You provided a tremendous service to the BAU. Please contact me if you ever need anything." He handed him his card. Reid nodded his head respectfully and muttered a thank you. I made sure to inform everyone to not use any names.

Morgan was next. "I knew you as a great guy. I know you still are. Call anytime if you need help."

Prentiss: "This is one of the hardest things I have ever done! Contact me, and I'll be there for you in an instant!"

Jareau: "Every time I watch a Redskins game I think of you. Here is where to reach me."

Rossi: "I have always thought you were an irritating know-it-all who didn't know when to shut up. At the same time, I respected you. Good luck with the rest of your life young man. Call if you ever need anything from a wealthy old blow-hard."

Reid responded with a short respectful expression of gratitude for each of them.

Everyone assembled in front of Reid, waiting. I didn't tell him he needed to give a final speech, but I didn't verbally establish specific rules. He stared back at them.

"I am beyond overwhelmed by the amount of attention-affection you have given me. You all seem like terrific people and I'm glad that the person you knew was so likeable. But this point I think your love and concern could be better used on other people who want and need you in their lives."

I couldn't have said better myself honestly. "Thank you. I know there is a lot of sadness in this room right now but I believe that everyone should also leave with a sense of hope that a brighter future is on the horizon for everyone." God I sounded like I was so full of BS. Motivational speech therapy was never my strong point, which is why I could never be a TV shrink.

I looked to Hotchner and he nodded.

"Team, I think it is time to go and pack up our things. Another team of agents will be coming in provide guidance to community organizations on how to reestablish the status-quo after a crisis of this magnitude. We need to clear the space."

That team wouldn't be coming in until tomorrow. But there was also no reason for the BAU to stick around any longer after having discovered "the unsub." They began to file out, some of looked back and one gave a small wave. Reid was trying not to look relieved as they left.

I briefly left to take of a few little things. I returned with my hands on my hips and stared straight at him. "So what is next for you Mr. Mathew Gray?"

"I don't know. I guess I'll find out when I leave here."

"Do you have any actual plans? My understanding is that you lived in the teacher dorms and only got rides into town to withdraw money to for things every few months."

His stance became defensive. "I know my account has been frozen. I know that I have nowhere to live. I'll figure everything out once I leave this place!"

I sat down and rummaged through my bag. "You are an extremely bright man Mr. Gray and I hate the idea of you looking like an idiot, especially since this place is crawling with media." He started to talk but I held up a hand and gave him my most lethal authoritative stare that I reserve for the therapists under my supervision who's screw ups harmed patients. "Sit," I said.

"You are going to listen to me for five more minutes. After I left, I chatted with a few volunteers at the school. I met a man named John Gorham. He is willing to drive you to Soda Springs Idaho for a fee that I am going to pay. Don't interrupt me!"

I opened my wallet a pulled out a pair of checks. "I looked up the town to make sure that they would accept these checks. I am giving you two in case one gets lost. I expect you to cash them both. I AM NOT FINISHED!" I pulled out a document I typed up. "This is a written agreement saying that you will begin to pay back the money six months after you have found a job that pays 5% above minimum wage. I am having a signed copy of this form sent to the special projects office at the Worthing Institute where you will be listed as being part of a sample study in one of my un-named research projects, NOT AS A PATIENT!"

I sat back and let out an enormous sigh of air. Reid was watching me closely. "Why are you doing all of this?"

"I'm doing what I feel is necessary to uphold the Hippocratic Oath I swore. I am a psychologist associated with a health facility that has money allocated for positive mental health advocacy. This may feel like a personal favor, but I have done similar things for other people. This just involved a hell of a lot more cloak and dagger tricks." I leaned forward and stared him straight in the eye. "The only way I was able to make sure those agents would leave you alone was by promising that I'd give you what was needed for you to make a fresh start. You aren't going to get any better offers."

I pushed the document with a pen in front of him. He read it carefully and signed it as Mathew Gray and handed it back to me. "Thank you," he said without any emotion.

I pulled out my phone and sent a text. It beeped and I looked at Reid. "He'll be at the back exit to the building in ten minutes.

Five minutes later we came out of the office dressed in coats with our personal belongings. (Reid's being a cloth super-market bag stuffed with clothes.) "What did you tell him about me?" he asked. "That you are a guy who was in the wrong place at the wrong time who desperately needs a fresh start," I said.

I explained few other things about how Gorham was being paid and told him what I think he should do once he got into town. Reid nodded repeatedly. Finally, I pulled out my business card. What he did with this mattered more to me than anything else. "I am the only one who is really be able help you," I said while trying not to sound like I was going to cry. He took the card and stared it. "Thank you," he said.

I saw a truck pulled up. "That's your ride. Good luck Mr. Gray," I said and walked away. I thought I heard Reid shout something, so I hurried my pace. I couldn't look back.

…

I sat on a bench in the center of town to wait for my ride. It wouldn't be here for another fifteen minutes so I stared into cloudy gray sky, wondering if Reid believed everything I said. I have bent the rules and helped patients with minor money problems, but nothing this elaborate. That form was a sham. This guy was special on so many different levels.

"Dr. Selzer."

I looked around and saw Agent Hotchner standing a few feet away. I closed my eyes and willed him to disappear. He didn't take the hint. "I saw you waiting here as I helped my team finish packing up."

"I don't need company," I said with my eyes still closed.

"I thought you should know that-"

"You're the Zodiac Killer? That you're dating a transvestite? That there really are transformers on the dark side of the moon?"

"WILL YOU STOP IT?" He screamed. "I'm the one who hired Reid! I was the one who put him on the team."

I straightened up and opened my eyes in order to return to caring mode. "You are not," I said flatly.

"Of course I am! I-"

I rubbed the skin under my eyes. "Damn it Agent Hotchner. I honestly thought you knew what I was doing."

"Were you playing mind games with us?"

"I may not be a profiler, but I do know how to read a group of people." I looked directly at Hotchner. "The truth is, I had met Spencer Reid once before at a medical conference in Orlando a few years ago. The guy loved what he did for a living. Reid talked about possible reasons for brutalizing genitalia as if it were dinner conversation. Lots of people are fascinated by death and abuse, but few people can look beyond the guts to find patterns and statistics."

Hotchner sat down beside me. I let the information sink in. I pushed on before guilt began to set in.

"Jason Gideon was cited as an interview source in his article. He was the one who recommended Reid for a position on the team. As a DID specialist, I have to figure what perceptions to break down and which ones needed to be re-enforced. I already knew how to handle Reid's condition. Figuring out how to get a group of FBI profilers to disassociate from one of their own was the hard part."

I realized how cold and calculating I sounded. "I am truly sorry for your loss."

I saw the van approaching. I thanked a god I didn't usually believe in and stood up. I suddenly felt Agent Hotchner reach for my hand. His face had brightened up a little.

"You did an excellent job Dr. Selzer. Thank you for helping me and my team let go of Spencer."

I feel the urge to mention that Aaron Hotchner is exactly my type. He is an honest, driven, workaholic. He always sounds serious even when he is giving a compliment. Too bad he lives on a different coast and is carrying around so much emotional baggage that I wonder how he can walk straight.

I smiled at SSA Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner. "Thank you Agent Hotchner."

I walked to the van and he followed me. "My friends call me Hotch," he said as he handed me his card. "People like us can never have enough of these."

I grabbed the business card and winked. "Thanks Hotch."

…

Melvin Morris was waiting at for me at the hotel bar. "They ran out of booze two hours ago."

I thought I was going to cry. Melvin Morris smiled. "I ordered a special stash earlier. It is in my room."

"I am not in the mood for duck, duck, booze," I said. Melvin laughed "Is that all you got? Stop resisting Maya." I allowed myself to be led through the hotel.

Melvin had his computer projecting a Die Hard movie on a blank wall. The rest of the team was sitting the floor playing "Apples to Apples" on the floor while munching on pretzels, licorice and Cajun-spiced popcorn. Melvin and I sat on the bed leaning against the headboard. I breathed in the aroma of my wine between sips.

"That bad?" Melvin said.

"You know I don't like to wallow in self-pity Melvin. Your day was just as Hellish as mine."

"Not likely. I wasn't the one who had to explain to a group of FBI agents why couldn't have their long-lost puppy back."

I stared at him suspiciously. "You figured all that out from one over-heard conversation?"

He nodded. "The only people who couldn't come to that conclusion were the agents."

I stared into space. "The worst part is they might have been able to get him to return to D.C. with them to start the process of creating a new identity if they hadn't thrown out the rule book completely. They antagonized him so much that he wanted to literally run away."

"Let someone else worry about that," he said.

"That team is morally compromised Morris."

"You did the right thing by not filing an ethical misconduct report. Your job was to determine what was best for Spencer Reid. His name would be in the report and he would have been dragged into a very grueling experience. As would you and I know how much you hate the weather on the East Coast," he said finishing with a slight laugh.

It felt nice having a sound board right now.

"Enough drivel about me. Have you called Lynda yet?"

Melvin chuckled. "You must be really out of it. I don't plan on calling her tonight."

I was a little confused. "Why?"

Melvin took a sip of cognac before starting. "My kids are teenagers with busy schedules and the million-dollar wedding Lynda has been organizing is only three days away. There are few days where we are all in the same place long enough to eat a meal together. Calling them tonight would be in an interruption. It would make them worry that I am having a hard time doing my job. I'll call in a few days to get status updates. I have all the love I need to feel hopeful despite what I see right in my mind and my heart. People can love and be loved with physical and metaphorical miles between them Maya."

It is part of human nature to classify people by their apparent personas alone. In fact, we need to do that in order to make quick decisions.

I generally do not like Melvin Morris because I do not understand him. He has one of the most brilliant minds in the country. He also starts prank wars and tells fart jokes. Yet no one takes better care of the staff during these crisis management assignments. I can't rationalize in my mind why I have a higher administrative position than him. I guess that might be why Aaron Hothchner, Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau, Emily Prentiss, David Rossi, and Penelope Garcia had such a hard time letting Spencer Reid, a genius profiler, leave to find a different life.

"Maya!"

Melvin was holding a set of trivia cards. "Maya! Stop thinking! I need a partner who knows math to beat the wonder twins. Come on!"

I grabbed the cards. There were six of them. I began shuffle them around, wondering what the odds were of him keeping my mine out of a group of six.

I sat down on the floor beside Melvin as a bowl of candy bars was passed around. "Melvin did I do the right thing?"

He kept looking at his cards. "What is done is done Maya. I prefer think of things from sentimental perspectives. If you love someone-"

"Set them free. Why do people always forget the last lines of that little semi-philosophical sentiment?"

"What happened to the 'no shrink-talk' rule?" someone shouted.

"Maya is going be punished by being forced clean up this mess before mid-night. Let's start with questions from the geo-science category." Melvin said. He then looked at me.

"People have a tendency to forget what they can't understand Maya."


	5. Chapter 5: When Stars Align

Some people are going to truly hate the direction my plot is taking. But I thought that Mathew Gray deserved some more time to develop in the story. I had to figure out some way of getting him into California! Do not fear, this guy is not a damsel distress that desperately needs to be saved. Please keep reading and reviewing!

Chapter 5:

When Stars Align

Quick Wiki facts about Utah: It has a growing population of more than two million people. Mormonism is the primary religion. It was home of the 2002 Winter Olympic Games. Outdoor tourism is a major industry there. One surprising less well-known fact is that it is a popular filming location for movies. Over a hundred films have been shot there. This is an extremely important fact to remember in order to understand how the heck the next part happened.

…

I am not going to lie. My work in the days after the "Reid versus the FBI" situation was significantly less stressful. I was trained to counsel traumatized children and advise the parents on what to do next. I was a shoulder for the girls to cry on. Some of them told me what happened and I would have the occasional nightmare for a few months afterward. Then there were girls who just wanted to be kids again. I told them about who Justin Beaver was seeing and which new shows on the Disney Channel to check out. For the older girls I brought in a few 17 Magazine issues and pulled some strings to get the latest Pretty Little Liars novel shipped to the hospital.

Unimaginable things happened to these girls that some would never fully recover from. I didn't know the statistics, but watching a twelve-year old girl dance around with her dog (Melvin's miraculous doing) in the hospital parking lot gave me hope. A media station caught footage of it and though Melvin refused to accept credit, The Worthing Institute did. Once again I cannot understand why this guy never stops acting like a saint.

I hate to say this, but only times I every really flinched was when Reid's name was mentioned. Many of the girls had become more talkative during the last few days. They described how he would act out the characters in some of the books they read. He demonstrated how plants grew better when Mozart music was played. The thing that freaked me out most was when one or two asked where he was. I gave them the answer they wanted to hear: That he went home to be with his family. Technically, all humans have an innate desire to establish familial connections so that is what Reid was probably doing. To most adults, this sounds like a load of crap and that I basically lied to bunch of kids. I am not going to lose sleep over this.

On the plane ride home I believe it was Brooke Slade who said the she heard a rumor about how a group of young adults were plotting to burn the school down. I told her it was a stupid idea. You needed dynamite to properly destroy a building like that. For some reason everyone on the plane that was extremely funny, including the Ice Queen.

While we're on the topic of The Evil one I should also mention what I thought was her first flagrante of act of malevolence was: Shannon Davis wanted to see me drown. There were other DID specialists with more experience, but I was the one gunning for her job. She hoped that experience would break me but it didn't. While I would still most likely be working under her thumb for another six months, I had proved that I could not be broken through by head games. I know most of you do not care about my administrative power-plays but trust me: Petty management fights can affect the treatment of patients.

…

Oh what I would give to change what happened next.

I spent what basically amounted to two months living the normal life I was used to. I counseled patients, organized staff education seminars, and swam through the endless stacks of patient files on my desk. I enjoyed doing my job as usual, but thoughts about a certain scrawny guy I met in Wyoming kept creeping into my mind.

I was eating lunch in the break room one day in early June to take a brief break from a particularly nasty case. There were a bunch of younger doctors discussing the celebrities featured on TV flat screen. I heard pieces of a conversation about whether there is such a thing as a "hunky-geek." For the life of me I cannot figure out why I looked up the TV at that instant.

I saw pretty blond girl snuggling against a guy as they strolled down a beach boardwalk while a paparazzi snapped pictures of their every move. I recognized the shaggy hair first. He was wearing a black blazer over a white t-shirt and khakis. I caught a full glimpse of his face before he leaned in to kiss the girl. I thought I was going to pass out.

One of the girls squealed. "Can you believe it? Lila Archer is living The Body Guard movie!"

It appeared that Lila Archer was dating Mathew Gray. She was a B-list movie actress who's next that she had top-billing in was premiering three days from now. She also saw an extremely talkative therapist for about six months that I happened to play tennis with twice a month.

My mind began to reel. My breath became uneven. Every possible worst-case scenario flooded my mind. The last thing I remembered seeing was the picture of a girl wearing a flapper dress attached to the top page before my face fell into it and I flat-out fainted.

Spencer Reid had established a new life for himself as the sweet and extremely extroverted boyfriend of Lila Archer. I hadn't yet worked the mechanics of how this relationship came into fruition. But there was one thing that was I about ninety-percent of: His girlfriend was a psychopath.


	6. Chapter 6: Disarray

I keep re-reading this and liking it more. I know this isn't the most "Criminal Minds-centered" fan-fic. I am not interested in that as much as creating characters that could interact with them. This is just fun for me. It long load of character rambling that doesn't have much to deal with the cast until the end. I love character development and I think leads to a more enriching experience. I have a nasty little plot twist at the end that even I haven't figured out how to resolve yet! Read and Review.

Chapter 6:

Disarray

Someone was waving smelling salts around my face: I woke up to find myself on a couch in the break room. There were a bunch of young doe-eyed doctors looking at me.

"Are you okay Dr. Selzer?" One of them asked. More people were asking questions but I tuned them out.

I rubbed my forehead. I decided to go for the ditzy over-worked act. "I'm fine. I'm fine. I had skipped breakfast as I was up late last night reviewing the latest findings on converging schizophrenic neuro-inhibitions." (Throw enough medical terminology in a sentence and even doctors will start to tune you out.)

I slowly sat up. People kept pestering me to not move. I learned that I had been out for about five minutes. I kept saying what people wanted to hear and was finally able to grab my stuff and head to my office.

Everything was coming back. Lila Archer and Spencer Reid. My thoughts began to race again as I pulled out my cell and dialed Taina, my personal therapist. It is a little less formal than that though. I basically call her when I'm feeling emotionally unstable and need someone to calm me down. I desperately needed to talk to someone about how badly I wanted to get involved in Reid's life.

Unfortunately she wasn't picking up. My hands were shaking. I decided I needed to keep working to take my mind off things. I looked at the file I was holding and realized I was supposed to be meeting Melvin Morris in his office right now. I grabbed my half-hazarded notes and ran out.

Melvin looked surprised to see me. "Maya what are you doing here? I heard you fainted."

I tried to slow my breathing. Compared to his slightly bombastic personality, his office was surprisingly restrained. Decorated in earth tones with the occasional sports pennant covering a wall with of few pictures of his family that were about ten years old.

"I'm here to work." I sat down and rocked the chair little. "This eleven year old girl displaying early signs of turrets syndrome sounds-"

"Maya!" he shouted. I wasn't listening. I needed to keep talking. My shaking hands felt sweaty as I flipped through my notes. "I recommend a combination of cognitive-"

"May, stop it!" He shouted and pulled the papers out of my hands. I couldn't even try to sound irritated. My voice was weak. "Melvin, this girl needs-"

"Maya tell me what is going on!"

"I think a dose of lamator-"

"How about this: Tell me what happened or I am going to have you admitted for 24 hour observation! And that would not look good in your file when you submit your name for the next round of promotions!"

You know you must be really sounding off your rocker when the gentle giant of the adolescent therapy department is threatening to have you locked up. I settled down into my chair and sighed.

"Mathew Gray is dating Lila Archer. I know Lila's former therapist. She has told me horror stories about that girl." I realized how pathetic that sounded. "Did I just snap over someone I have only met twice and is not even my patient?" I asked listlessly.

Melvin said nothing and stared at me intently at me for a while. I had no idea what was going to happen next.

"Maya would you mind if I 'psycho-analyzed' you for a few minutes?"

I thought about it for while. The guy had a metaphorical gun to my head. I really had nothing to lose at this point. "Have at it Dr. Morris."

He sat back in his chair with his fingers laced together. Dressed in a plain white dress shirt (no tie) with a gray cardigan, he was the image of a seasoned traditional therapist. Time melted by. He then leaned forward on his desk with his elbows and his hands folded.

"Maya you are an expert in compartmentalization. You know how and when to express your emotions according to the situation. This probably is why counseling patients with dissociative identity disorders appeals to you so much. You are obsessed with always acting professional. In other words, you like acting like a 'grown-up' and that is why you dislike my persona while still admiring my work. All of these qualities make you an excellent candidate for the highest positions in psychiatric administration."

"The things that bother you the most are the things that you can't understand. As a doctor who specializes in studying the mind, you know that there are many mental mysteries that can never be fully understood. But that still doesn't stop you from trying. That is why you still work extra over hours conducting and over-seeing research projects that most people of your executive rank stopped doing years ago.

"Finally and most importantly, you are also an extremely compassionate person. You try not to let on how deeply you care about people and how you hate to see them suffer."

"These are the things that define who you are Maya. It is perfectly understandable for you to feel connected to such a brilliant man as emotionally-scarred as Spencer Reid. And finally, deep down you know you need to be ready to catch him when he falls."

I wondered how much I would owe him if this were an actual session. But there were other things to address.

"I don't know if he's going to ever become my patient," I said flatly.

"That is the part that is eating you alive right now. There is no statistical data to predict what might happen to him. The simple name for it is your 'gut instinct.' But you know there is much more to it than that."

This was an actual session in many respects. I was feeling wiped. "What the Hell do I do about all this? I cannot shadow the guy. I don't want to be like those FBI agents. Yet I know the girl he is dating could knife him in his sleep if the sky is cloudy. And I have no legal proof as my source is retired alcoholic shrink."

"I do not have all the answers Maya. But I trust you'll do what's right."

"In other words you have no idea."

Melvin smiled. "You are not one of those FBI. You are too obsessed with keeping your job to break the rules. Bending, manipulating, and subverting them, is not completely out of the question though," he said with a wink.

I smiled in return. "Thanks Doc." We both knew that session was wrapping up. With my hands no longer shaking, I arranged my notes and began to pack up.

As I stood up Melvin pulled out a prescription pad and began to scribble on it. "Don't look so shocked. You don't have to take a single pill. All I ask is that you have it filled. You know where to have it done discreetly." He pulled it off the pad and handed it to me.

One of my Dad's hobbies was studying architecture. He loved the less well-known architects whose designs only define tiny but significant parts of society. One of his favorites was Elbert Hubbard. The guy was also an author and philosopher who once said: "The friend is the man who knows all about you, and still likes you. "

I looked at him aghast. "Melvin, where do I begin-"

"No now Maya. Think nothing of it." I took the script and placed it in my purse. He looked at me and smiled like the Santa-in-training he was.

"And please tell me you are going to go home, relax and let tomorrow worry about tomorrow."

I suddenly dashed over and gave him a hug. He was surprised, but hugged me back.

…

I wish I could say that my day had a happy ending, but it didn't.

I got home with my little bottle of pills carefully stored away in a compartment in my bag. I had arrived before five o'clock, which would have shocked my neighbors if they were the observant type. I got into some comfortable clothes, turned on a movie channel, and ordered a pizza. Unfortunately I had forgotten to turn off my phone.

Because I lacked impulse control at the time, I picked it up when it rang. It was Kyle Durmond: My lovely little contact in the C.I.A.

Quick story: We went to Stanford together. Our Greek homes were next to each other and we dated for a while. He was a brilliant actor, but was forced by his parents to get a degree in math. We parted amicably and kept in touch every once and while. Then ten years ago he called me in the middle of the night tell me that someone had slipped him some pot and so he would fail a drug test. I believed him and told him how to beat it. Little did I know that it was for a job with The Agency and he not stopped begging me to give him a way to repay me since then.

The day after the Reid business, I called and asked him to find a way stop an FBI tech analyst from tracking Spencer Reid down. He laughed at the simplicity of it. I got a call two days later saying that he had personally taken care of it and that names were left out and no feelings were hurt.

This time he had called to say hi and play catch-up. We talked about school and where our friends were these days. He was coming to Californian next week for a wedding and wanted to have a drink with me while he was in town. I don't know how it was brought up but our conversation turned to the B.A.U.

"Some crazy stuff happened over there last week. That team you had me help you with had been suspended for almost two months and were being dragged from hearing to hearing. The next thing you know the whole unit was disbanded."

"What?" I said. "What exactly happened?"

"I mean every single member of that team was transferred out. I had a friend who happened be in the building at the time and he watched as all paper in the bull pen was being boxed up. It was kind of spooky he said."

I was in shock. I knew the team would probably go through some grueling rounds of misconduct investigations. There would be a few demotions, maybe a transfer, and end in probationary status.

"When I met them I thought they were good agents. A little reckless in their state of duress, but it seemed like they were good at their job," I said.

"I know. I think the whole thing was a damn witch hunt started by someone who had one big and nasty beef with that team."

I hated myself for what I was about to ask. But these people really care about Reid. What would happen if he were to come out of everything and there was no one to greet him when he got back to D.C? "Can you tell me where everyone ended up without getting in trouble?"

Kyle laughed. "Maya you have no idea how high up my clearance is. These guys have been literally sent to the four corners of the earth. The celebrity author David Rossi was forced into permanent retirement and banned from consulting work in the U.S. I heard something about him being on an international book tour right now. Emily Prentiss, the ambassador's daughter, was sent back to Europe to do undercover espionage. Derek Morgan, the former cop, was sent to do deep under-cover work in Africa. The unit chief, Aaron Hotchner, was sent back to Afghanistan to oversee some nasty-dangerous covert operations. Heck the sweet tech-analyst girl was sent to India. Even her boyfriend was sent packing to Okinawa. The only person who got to stay in the states was the media liaison. She is in charge of dictating press releases in Miami office. My understanding is that it might have been something of a blessing in disguise as it meant living closer to her husband's family."

"Holy crap!" I said. Did someone just put their names on darts and throw them at a map of the world?

"I know Maya. And I have every intention of finding out what exactly happened."

"Why the heck would you do that?" Realizing how cold that sounded, I quickly added. "It would mean sticking your neck out on the line. Are you really willing to risk your entire career for this?"

"I have had a nice run here, but I am kind of sick of dealing with all this turf war crap. I am prepared to stick my neck out for this team who had helped my god-daughter survive an anthrax outbreak."

This revelation sent me reeling. Reid's exposure to a "Dangerous Bio Hazard." It was F'n anthrax? Did this team ever have any remotely boring assignments?

"Kyle, please tell me this call can't be traced. I really don't want to go jail."

"There is nothing to worry about Maya."

My thoughts were starting to race again. God I was glad that I had picked up that script.

"God Kyle, please tell you don't want me to help you with this. I have no training-"

Kyle laughed again. "I never would have dreamed of doing so. Though it does say something about the fact that you were actually concerned that I might have asked you to help with something this big."

Okay, that was a dangerous little slip on my part.

"Tell you what Maya. I am going to call when I land at LAX and we are going to plan to have some drinks. And we can talk about whatever the Hell you want. I can tell you where we keep the aliens. Who really killed Kennedy. Or the paper trail that I have been working through to find the mastermind behind all this nasty business with the BAU."

"It's a deal Kyle."

We talked for a little while longer. When I hung up, I realized the pizza guy was fifteen minutes late. How did my life get turned upside in a matter of roughly twelve hours?


	7. Chapter 7 When Insanity Reveals Evil

It is always hard to read your first detailed negative review. But I am glad it had a lot constructive criticism in it. Flaws need to be pointed out. I'll try to address a few of them. It is easy to get caught up in creating a kind of bitchy character so I'm going to try to tone that down and eliminate some exposition. I'll work on better characterization of the TV characters. Since I can only do most of my writing at night, I admit grammar is something that I kind of mangle as my eyes glaze over at 2:00 A.M. I can't fix everything right now as I really want to put a new entry up that is more focused on the Lila Archer business. I think it might be my longest entry to date. If I'm going make the only person Reid ever had substantial feeling for a villain, I think that I really need to flesh out my argument.

As for the plot, it is a work in progress. I knew I wanted to do something different. If you are looking for a really good "Reidnapped" fan story, I recommend "Hangman" by Gothina234. She adds chapters regularly and it is so good I cry every time I read it.

And a teaser: Do you think Reid could lose all of his deductive reasoning skills after being brainwashed?

Chapter 7:

When Insanity Reveals Actual Evil

Lila Archer is the quintessential Hollywood Starlet. She was a sweet and innocent young woman who came to Tinsel Town with big dreams. She garnered a strong fan following through a variety of small but memorable roles. She became the target of stalker and which pushed her further into the spotlight ("all press is good press"). This gave her slight career boosts that lead to her having larger roles in more high-profile movies. Her career has waxed and waned over the years. She has often been compared to Amy Adams. In her next movie to come out, she plays passionate American artist in Paris who sells information about her clients as a spy. This is what the average reader will learn about her if you were to put her name in a Google search engine.

How Lila re-united with Spencer Reid will most likely serve as the central plot in her biopic. Production of her movie scheduled to premier in November was just starting to wind down in Utah. If you believe the gossip columns, Lila noticed a man taking nature photos who looked familiar. He turned around and she instantly recognized him as her "savior who got way."The only thing I wasn't surprised to learn that Reid was in Utah as the main highway out of Idaho lead to Salt Lake City, an ideal place to place to find work and live under the radar.

Then things start to sound like something a PR team cooked up: It turned out that Reid was never his real name. He was actually an under-cover agent on loan from the C.I.A. After years of "living a lie" he had quit The Agency and spent the last year "re-claiming" his identity. "But his love for Lila was real. Not a day passed where he didn't think about how leaving Lila was the hardest thing he had ever had in order to protect her. When they saw each other again they believed that it was a sign that they were meant to be together."

Many people might think this sounds completely implausible. That anyone could de-bunk the whole thing by surfing the internet for a few hours. But there are a few things working in favor of backing up this story: I admit I didn't make the connection that Reid was ever associated with Lila Archer before. The stalking incident happened a few years ago and this kind of story become old news fast in this celebrity-filled state. The other thing is that Spencer Reid was never a publicly well-known agent. He was rarely seen at FBI press conferences. Nobody was ever able to put a full name under that picture of Reid hugging Lila's hand. People also love to see happy endings and are willing suspend disbelief, even in real life.

…

Feinting at work provided a logical reason to call in a personal day. I called Andrea Tanner to find out if she was available play a few rounds. She said she was more than happy to play a spur-of-the-moment game.

Andrea Tanner was an extremely fit woman in her late fifties who had her shoulder-length hair dyed blond regularly. You wouldn't know from her appearance that something was off about her. But if you talked with her long enough you'd notice some of her eccentricities. We played at the private athletic center near the institute. It was a simple case of my regular partner moving away and she was looking for someone with my job background to play with.

We exchanged hellos and made small talk before starting our first game. I let her do most of the talking during the first games. Tennis is not easiest sport to have a conversation in while playing. But she was a pro at getting in lines in between back-hand swings. Her favorite subjects were your typical pop culture news stories. Every once and a while she'd throw in an anecdote about one of her former celebrity patients. There was a time when she was the premier therapist in the entertainment industry that the public didn't know about. Things seemed to have gone south fast for her not long after she stopped seeing Lila Archer.

"So did you see that Lila Archer has a new beau?" I said casually when we stopped for a water-break at the end of the first set.

"You know she is going to kill this one. You know I'm sure of it," she said shakily.

This did not surprise me. I began to laugh. We'd had conversation before. "That was what you said when she was seeing Shemar Thomas, The Gewbler, and David Jeffries. To my knowledge they are all alive and kicking."

Her head began to bob. "I have a really bad feeling about this one. He's too cute. Too sweet. She's going to kill him when she's done feeding off of his innocence."

I briefly wondered if there was a person who could describe Reid as a handsome man without adding a comment that made him sound like a Precious Moments figurine.

"She's done some nasty things. But I'm not sure I can see her literally sticking her teeth into this guy," I said.

"Oh no she won't. She'll soothe him with her kisses. Their bodies will begin to beat to the same rhythm. But that won't be enough. She'll wake him up in the middle of the night, turn on light, and make sure that she is the last thing he sees when she slices his throat."

I know what you're thinking. Andrea sounds like the one who should be admitted. She is currently under the guardianship of her own daughter. She lives her daughter and must wear a tracking bracelet when she leaves the house. I have a few educated guesses, but I have yet to figure out the exact nature of her psychosis. The part that always interests me the most during this cycle of conversation happens when we return to the game.

I stay silent and return serves and while she rattles off every dirty little secret the patient has ever told her. She described how Lila sabotaged a rival for a part with food poisoning. How she would sneak into her own home during the day, rearrange her personal clothing items, and then viciously lash out against her staff for not doing their jobs. That she once had an assistant post embarrassing photo of her former girl-friends onto their bosses Facebook pages. She slipped a poisonous snake into the bed of the bed former boyfriend's current love interest while doing a photo shoot abroad. Another time she broke into the director's tent and hid all his notes to halt production so she could go shopping at the island boutique. The list would go on and until I called game, set, and match.

The stuff Andrea described is not terribly unusual. You can find many books and at least couple hundred articles online about some of the crazy stuff that entertainers did while at work and in their personal lives. Everyone has a story to sell about someone these days. I doubt whether Lila actually did half of this stuff. But the thing that stands out is the fact that Lila Archer told Andrea about all these things. Some might say that this was just her way of easing her conscience and thought Andrea as her priest.

Many studies have shown that talk-therapy doesn't affect psychopaths. It is actually counter-productive as it feeds into their sense of grandiosity. In the media, psychopaths are portrayed as evil, hyper-intelligent, murderous masterminds. In real life these people can appear to be very normal. There are entire checklists that therapists have to go through before attempting to make such a formal diagnosis. It is not something that can be compiled within six months if the psychologist can't see the whole picture. The pressure of being the go-to therapist in the entertainment industry was probably getting to her and Lila took advantage of that. You don't need physical weapons to harm people if you know how to push the right buttons.

I began to pack up our gear, and she rattled on. "You know she staged that whole stalking incident," she said.

"Andrea the girl confessed. Lila had nothing to do with the murders."

"You really don't think that she couldn't have played into that girl's sense of neediness? That she might have been the one to plant the seed in her mind that she had to do something special to prove her love for her."

It was an interesting but completely un-provable theory.

"Why do you think she pulled that boy who was assigned to protecting her into that pool?"

I stopped what I was doing and looked at her. This was new.

"She told me about how she pulled that sweet little young agent into her pool fully-clothed with his weapon in his belt. That she got a rush from embracing him in way she's certain that no other woman had done so before. She didn't care if either or both of them got killed. Though she was almost hoping that she be the one to die so that the feeling of her kisses would haunt him for the rest his life."

I'd love to believe everything Andrea said came from her own state of lunacy. Honestly I didn't have any reason to think otherwise. But I still felt the need to press forward. I looked Andrea straight in the eye. "Listen Andrea: The man Lila is dating is a friend of mine. I can't tell him to stay away from her without a good reason. I can tell him about all the things she's done, but men have tendency to stop listening with their heads when they're in love. Can you think of anything that she has done that might have physical proof?"

She thought hard for a moment. She moved closer to me so that our faces were only inches apart. Her eyes were clear and she spoke with an even voice. "Look closely at Spencer Reid. His awkwardness. The way he can't find clothes that fit his wiry frame. How his hair is cut. He fits a profile. Every woman wants to go over and give him a hug but none of them want to give him more."

"Andrea, you should know that the guy has changed-"

"Think about all those people who work on movies sets Maya. All of them want to be there. To be part of an event featured around some of the most beautiful people in the world. Some spend their whole lives in the shadows of the stage set-ups and they're okay with that. They feel it is privilege even breath the same air these people. So if some famous actor were to approach one of them after a long day to go and get a drink, do you think they would hesitate to leave without anyone knowing where they went?"

What she was suggesting really freaked me out.

"Nobody misses an extra Maya. Go back and look at every movie Lila has acted in that involved filming on location out the U.S. and check missing persons reports. Look for people who, though may not exactly match Spencer's physical description, might have a similar persona."

I maintained total eye-contact with her. "Andrea Tanner, has Lila Archer ever confessed to murder?"

"She's too smart for that Maya. She knew that my mental state was deteriorating, but I was still lucid enough to call the police if she said anything to implicate herself in a felony offence. When she wasn't telling me stories about her supposed antics, she'd talk constantly about the perfect type of man. Spencer was her gold standard. She was obsessed with finding people who looked at her the way he did."

"But why would she murder them?"

"It feeds into her narcissism. She thinks she is so special and in such high demand, she couldn't possibly give them all the attention they deserved. So she makes sure that they are experiencing the greatest moments of their life when she kills them so they won't feel the pain of abandonment."

We stepped away from each other. The possible ramifications of what she was implying began to sink in. I also knew from the beginning that what I was doing might be construed as cruel. I looked at her uneasily.

"Andrea I-"

She shook her head once. "There is no reason to feel guilty Maya. I think this is first time you have ever really listened to me. Lila Archer is the devil created in the image of an angel. She has been tormenting ever since we parted ways. It is nice to finally expose the demon to someone else."

We walked to the lobby in silence. Her ride appeared moments later. Before she left, she placed a hand on my arm.

"You cannot defeat the blond demon alone Maya. You are strong, but there is too much at stake for you to be the long ranger. Good luck. I think I can sleep at little easier tonight knowing that there will champions for my cause out there. Good-bye."

I couldn't do anything but wave as she left. That would be the last time I ever saw her. No one was ever able to determine the exact nature of her psychosis or what the origin was. Every year I organize a tennis tournament to raise money for mental health clinics in lower-class neighborhoods. Since she actually grew up in Los Angeles, I ended moving the venue there and achieved higher monetary success. A few months after her death I learned that she had applied for a position on the newly-minted BAU. She was turned down primarily due to the old boy's club mentality of the time that federal agencies were slow to change.

…

I found a live news feed online of red carpet show before the premier of Lila's movie. She was wearing a beautiful, slightly over-extravagant one-shoulder blue sequined gown. After a few independent shots, she latched on to Reid as she walked the rest of the red carpet. He was wearing navy-blue Gucci glasses with an all black suit ensemble. He looked perfectly at ease with hundreds of camera flashes going off as he smiled and waved. He leaned in occasionally to whisper something into her ear that would make her laugh. It is nearly impossible to study the subtext of behavior through a shaky camera streaming footage to a small computer screen.

This was clearly dress rehearsal for the premier of her next movie. It was scheduled come out it in November. This is when most of the movies that were generating Oscar buzz came out. I wondered if Reid would be around long enough to escort her to the theater where she was expecting her first Oscar nomination-worthy performance to appear.

Martin Luther King Jr. once said: "Every man must decide whether he will walk in the light of creative altruism or in the darkness of destructive selfishness."


	8. Chapter 8: Lost in Skid Row

To address one recent comment: A PR team basically needed some way of explaining why this goofy-looking guy came back into Lila's life as a suave, easy-going, love interest. I confess I am in something of an Act II quagmire: I'll try to keep posting something of interest regularly. I have some of my own villains in mind but I could use a few more supporting characters. So I am currently spelunking in the wiki fan pages to find unsubs who weren't killed (I don't believe in resurrections) at the end of the episode. PM me if you have any suggestions. If you watched the latest episode, Reid's scope of knowledge about how to manage children is a very drastic shift.

I know some of you are getting sick of my non-"Criminal Minds" content. Just stick with me. I love writing this and I hope you find some of my originality almost as interesting.

Chapter 8:

Lost in Skid Row

Los Angeles: Population: 12 million people. Area of 468 miles divided into 80 different districts, including Beverly Hills and Hollywood. It is known as the place where actors, directors, and Real Housewives live and shop. Every person who dreams of breaking into the entertainment industry will try to find a way there. These and a couple of other reasons are why I typically avoid the city like the plague and could never live there permanently.

Oh but the things we do for the people we care about. I returned to the office on Monday went through my paper work at break-neck speed. I opened the staff website and found the page that listed on-going research studies in immediate need of staff assistance. Dr. Jie Zhang, a recently-tenured adult behavior specialist, was in desperate need of assistance. He had some interns working on the development of a psychological profile of Skid Row in downtown Los Angeles needed a new on-site coordinator after his co-researcher quite without notice.

Before I called Zhang, I grabbed my rolodex and flipped through it. I found Hotch's card and noticed he wrote his cell phone number on the back of it. I wondered if he still had it or if calls would be forwarded to his new phone that was probably larger, heavy, and bullet-proof. Then I wondered what I would say if I got through? "Hi Hotch. It's Dr. Maya Selzer. Do you remember me? The shrink who forced you to abandon to your genius profiler? Who ripped you a new one when you were at your lowest. Speaking of ripping, I heard your team got torn apart. Is there anything I can do for you? How about a care package of my mother's secret-ingredient cookies?" Or how about: "Hi Hotch. It's Dr. Selzer. I heard your team got disbanded and I feel terrible about it. Your genius agent that I forced you to abandon is now dating a psychopath/possible serial killer." I really didn't want to think about the former SSA unit chief's reactions.

Dr. Zhang was beyond thrilled to have me help. He couldn't be at the research base himself as his wife was pregnant and her due date was six days away. We discussed the particulars of the assignment and I agreed meet the Los Angeles team on Thursday.

Explaining my sudden interest in performing charity work to Shannon Davis involved a lot of evasive wording, stroking her ego, and just plain BSing her. She was arrogant but not stupid. I didn't doubt that she would figure out what I was up to eventually. I just hoped that I'd be done by that point.

I gave Melvin a full and honest explanation of why I was going to L.A. I described my meeting with Andrea Tanner. I also told him about how and what I learned about the disbanding of the BAU. Finally, I outright admitted that I really didn't know what I doing after that. He smiled and said he had faith in me.

"You are excellent at thinking on your feet Maya. Just keep in mind that you will not be in an institute. There are no observation monitors or controlled environments. You are going to have to look at things from different angles. And do not attempt to do this all alone."

"Are you asking for an invite to the City of Angels and Demons?" I asked jokingly.

He laughed. "Someone obsessed with climbing the career ladder like you probably has a large network of people who might be willing to help."

He wished good luck and to have a safe trip. As I was leaving his office he called out: "And remember: If you fall, I'll be here to catch you."

…

There is one thing in Los Angeles that I truly loved: My brothers. Both my brothers were architectural design consultants. My oldest brother Will lived west of downtown L.A and my younger brother James lived in downtown L.A. in the Bunker Hill district. He was the one who insisted that I stay with him as Skid Row wasn't far from there. A silly little thing to point out is that we are all named after literary authors.

Skid Row is not as poverty-stricken as the name implies. There is still a large population of homeless people residing there, but conditions have improved significantly over the past two decades. Dr. Zhang's team of interns was studying the development of family-like relationships in the homeless population. I was there to supervise them and help organize the data. Though initially wary of me, they eventually warmed up after realizing the rumors of my throwing incompetent interns in rubber rooms were false.

Some of you might be wondering why I didn't buy a night-vision camera with a telescopic lens and monitor murderous Lila's every movement. There really was no need as there was already a hoard of red-bull fueled paparazzi doing that. At this point I needed to learn how to drive around the city to establish how long it would take for me to get to different sections. I also needed to walk around to find out exactly why people liked living here from an internal perspective as opposed to what you read in travel guides. And I think this exactly why I found Reid wandering around in the middle of the night.

It was past midnight in Skid Row. I had been wandering sections closest to rail lines for the last five days and decided to see was what this section was really like during the night hours. I know not a good idea for woman to do but I had pepper-spray, a Tazer, and a hand-held GPS device. It was in one of the emptier sections of the neighborhood under re-construction that I noticed him standing with his hands in his pockets beneath a dim street light post.

"Mr. Gray!" I shouted as I walked up to him. "What are you doing here?"

He looked up and at smiled with amusement. "I could ask the same thing of you Dr. Selzer."

"I am working on a research project here. How about you? This is not the safest place to be for a high profile person like you."

He quietly chuckled. "Do I look like a person who signs autographs and knows the Angelina Jolie's personal cell phone number?"

He had a point there. He was wearing plain blue jeans and a black long-sleeve shirt. His sneakers didn't look high end. And his glasses were of a cheap brand. He could easily walk streets un-noticed if he was smart about it.

"So what are you doing here?" I asked again.

He stared out at the dimly-lit street. "I like to get lost. To wander the streets without knowing where they might lead. Every place has a different taste, a different smell. I don't know what I like or don't like so I'm not inclined to avoid any place that doesn't look completely dangerous. It almost feels like I am living out part of my mind in the physical world."

I have never had a boring conversation with this guy.

"But it does gives you headaches at times," I remarked.

He looked a little taken aback by my observation. Then he smiled. "Very good Dr. Selzer. Trying to find my personal preferences can be frustrating at times. When someone once asked if I liked Indian food, I said yes. The fact that I didn't know might have lead to some prying questions. Then I found myself gagging on it at a restaurant five minutes later."

I laughed. "So what are you doing during the daylight hours?"

"One day found Carmen, Lila's housekeeper, crying in the kitchen. I found out her rent had been raised and she was having hard time finding a cheaper day-care center for her 7 and 10 year old children. I told her I had some experience with children and offered to look after them. There is a rarely-used guest house on the edge of Lila's property. I ordered some toys and educational materials and keep them occupied there. Carmen calls a friend occasionally and they agree to take them so they don't feel completely confined. Most people think I'm writing thriller a novels, but I am actually doing something much more fun."

I laughed again. "Mr. Mathew Gray, you truly have a heart of gold."

He smiled appreciatively. "The only I know for certain is that I love working with kids. I just want to help people in whatever way that I can."

We stood there in silence. At this point there was a ton of personal questions I really wanted to ask: Why are you with Lila Archer? When I met you, you said wanted to live a 'normal' life. So what made you change your mind after you met her? Does she know about your wandering during the night? What does she think about you helping 'the help?' if she knows about it? Do you have any sense of her suffering a mental disorder?

Reid checked his cell phone to get the time. "I think am going to walk to the next block over that is little more populated. In the last two sections I visited, I heard different strains of music at this time in the night. I'd like to find out what is played in this area."

"Okay," I said. "Just be safe and be smart about it."

"You too Dr. Selzer," he said as he began to walk across the street. He suddenly turned around and stared at me.

"I think I know why you're really here Dr. Selzer. I'm not angry and I appreciate the fact that you didn't press for more information."

I looked at him, at a loss for words. I wanted to tell him what I learned from Lila's former therapist. I wanted to tell him about the group of people who truly about him had been scattered across the world and was most likely miserable.

He stood there confidently. "You once told me that sometimes, our problems-solving skills can show more about how our minds work than what we say. I think this is one of those times. Just trust me."

This time he was the one to walk away and I was the one who was left with more questions than answers about what was going to happen next.


	9. Chapter 9: Commissioner and The Artist

I added information to my profile that I think some of you might find interesting.

It took me about three days to put together this crazy little bit of plot exploration. It is very long, but as opposed to some of my other entries, this feels like part of an episode without the lead characters and a lot more humor (Aaron Sorkin is my idol). I am also considering adding more to the logline and would like some suggestions. PM me with your ideas. And the grammar might be awful because I'v been working for four hours on this, it is very late at night, and I really wanted to add a new entry before you all forgot about me.

Chapter 9:

The Commissioner and the Artist

Kyle Durmond chose the place. He arrived in LAX just past twelve o'clock in the afternoon. It was a large, noisy restaurant just outside the airport. It was the kind of place travel-weary, middle-class families came to eat while waiting for their hotel rooms to become available. He said it was an ideal place to meet un-observed as most the diners had other things to worry about. Covert meetings don't happen in dark alley-ways like in the movies he said.

We made small talk until our food arrived. Kyle told the waiter to leave the coffee pot on the table and not to bother us for forty minutes if he wanted a big tip. Kyle looked younger than he is with his unevenly cut light brown hair and pale blue eyes. "So what do you want to know? About our alien work-release program? What Elvis and Kennedy have in common? Or what I've been able to learn the BAU disbandment process?

"How about what is going on with the BAU?"

"Gee, I was hoping to finally tell someone about clairvoyant alien kept in the White House Situation Room."

"I'll look forward to reading about it your memoirs."

He laughed a little. Then his voice turned serious. "Do you really want to know about what is going with that team? Because if you do, I am going to want your help with sorting through things."

I was a little shocked by this request. "How could I help you? I have no experience in covert data analysis."

"But you do know how to put clues together. I have access to huge amounts data. Breaking it down psychologically is something I don't have much experience with."

"Don't you have other friends, former spies-"

"None that are willing to risk losing their pensions over something that seemed like a done deal. And none that have as big a personal stake in this as you."

My voice was hesitant. "Kyle, I have a patient that may need me-"

"I am well aware of your connection to Spencer Reid. I get the feeling that everything is connected in some intricate way. I wouldn't be asking you to consider assisting me if I didn't think that it might help you protect the guy. It all depends on how much you have faith my plans to take the complete fall if thing go south. I really need you to trust me Maya."

I began to think about it. I weighed all my options. This seemed completely dangerous. I have no experience in this kind of work. But then again, I had more questions than answers. Kyle seemed like the only guy who might be able to find them.

"Okay Kyle. I'm in. What's our next move Mr. 007?" I said to lighten the mood a little.

He laughed. He pushed our finished plates aside and pulled out some pens and paper. "Let's begin with sharing our own questions and observations. You first Dr. Selzer."

"My big question is about why they literally scattered the agents across the world. When field agents screw-up, my understanding is that they're forced into desk jobs in separate departments within government head quarters."

He nodded. "Excellent point. Any theories as to why?"

I hesitated.

"Listen Maya: I have found dead ends everywhere I've looked from a conventional stand-point. Now is the time to throw out ideas that seem too 'out-side the box' to be plausible. Nothing is too outlandish to consider at this point."

"It seems that with exception of the media liaison, no one would be able to find out about Reid's relationship with Lila Archer as this kind of pop-culture news is only of interest to the U.S. audience."

"That is a very interesting point. So what aren't you telling me about Lila Archer? There can be no secrets between us while dealing with this."

"I have some very shaky information from Lila's former shrink that suggests she might have psychopathic characteristics. And there is the implication that she might be committing serial murders while acting abroad."

He began to take some notes."That you might be able to support with information from missing persons reports in different countries. Give me your profile and I might be able to learn more. What else?"

"I'm sorry, that is all I have. How can I possibly help you?"

"Just let me talk out my information: I have been working through all the cases covered by this BAU team to find some inconsistencies. The one troubling me the most is Cortland Situation. There is so much we don't know, even almost three months later. We have compiled as much information as possible from the girls. They were all abducted from different places and different times. None of them seem to have any recollection as to how they came into that school. The investigation was suspended about a month ago due to lack of progress, pressure from the community to let them move on with their lives, and man power problems.

"Which is around the time that the whole team was re-assigned," I observed.

"Something interesting came across my desk a few days ago. The lead of investigator of a human trafficking operation was found dead in her apartment. The M.E. concluded that it was due to a stroke, which there is a family medical history to support this claim."

"I don't need to tell you how many different non-traceable ways there are to accomplish that. But what is the connection?"

"The BAU did work with her on case that involved the abduction of depressed college students and altering their mental state."

"I'm familiar with parts of the case. Two of victims were admitted to my institute."

"What do you know?"

"Not much honestly. They weren't my patients and they refused our request to use their data for research purposes. The only thing I remember is one therapist expressing fear over how many more cases like this might be out there. Can you find any connection to the Cortland Situation?"

Kyle shook his head. "Other than vaguely similar methodologies, none. The big thing both these cases have in common how much we don't know. The leader of that traffic ring was caught and killed, but there is no way of finding out if she had mentored anyone else."

He took a sip of his water. "This whole damn thing is connected I just can't figure out how."

We sat in silence. My mind began to work through things. Reid was the emotional weak spot of the team. Someone exploited it by dismantling Reid's mental state to wreak emotional havoc on the team. I did some digging into what happened to Hotch after meeting him and began to read between the lines of the news stories. He killed his wife's murderer and was cleared to return to work after an inquiry. The Higher Powers aren't completely heartless. Losing Reid was punishment enough. This kind of brutal administrative action was basically adding salt to the wounds.

"Kyle, what if there are two UnSubs working together behind all of this?"

He looked at me and smiled a little. "I didn't think you liked FBI terminology."

"It helps me get into a different mindset."

"I'm sorry. Go on."

"What if we're looking at this all wrong? The attack on Reid was extremely personal. The relocations every member of the BAU was cold, methodical, and deliberate."

"That points to the idea that talking about where J. Edgar Hoover is kept cryogenically frozen at Langley might be a more productive and entertaining use of our time as opposed to creating imaginary lines to connect the dots."

"Two people with two different methodologies with one goal, but one is- oh what the Hell give me a minute."

I take a deep breath and start again. "Forget crime science terms. What about the idea of the Commissioner and the Artist? The commissioner loves art and can identify skillfully superb work. So the Commissioner seeks out the best painter whose style suits his tastes the most and asks him to create a work of art for him. The commissioner doesn't need to give him much instruction about what he wants in the work or art. The whole point is that the piece the Artist produces will be a means of completing the vision the Commissioner has for a specific part of his life."

Kyle stared at me in awe. "Amazing Maya."

My cheeks reddened. "I didn't sleep through all of our Renaissance Art classes."

"Alright keep going. Connect some more dots. Focus on the BAU."

"I think the BAU might have only been chosen by chance. They just happen to fit the profile. The commissioner saw something he wanted exploit about that team and was able to find someone in their history to be his 'artist'"

"So the Commissioner found an Artist to basically do whatever he needed to wreck that team in a way that he still had some control over. I still don't see what the end-game could be. Reid is still alive and the only way you can keep everyone from coming home at some point would involve detaining them at Gitmo."

I took a long a drink of my cold coffee. I was completely of my element here. Thinking this abstractly was giving me a headache. It reminded me of why I liked my line of work-Then more things began to click.

"This is more than a work of art Kyle, it is an experiment!"

Kyle looked at me confused. "From crazy art commissioner to mad scientist. Explain please."

"It is not that different in many ways. Many psychologists see their patients as beautiful creations. Some scientists see their findings as a work art. Read some of what Freud has written as an example."

"Please describe your thought process behind this one."

"My official reason for being in L.A. is that I am here to supervise a case study of Skid Row. They are particularly interested in the development of family-like bonds. God this actually explains so much about the whole damn thing!"

"When Spencer Reid lost the ability to use part of genius-level intellect, did you happen pick some of it up while in Wyoming?"

"The BAU has developed an extremely strong family bond over the years. The roster hasn't changed up that much over the past five years. The question the research team is trying to find the answer to is this: Does the establishment of family-like bonds with non-family members harm or help an individual's ability seek a higher standard of living? Commissioner-usub-scientist whatever. This is basically a guy who hates families. The profilers would give you some song-and-dance about them being from broken homes, but I don't care. "

"My belief is that the Commissioner is someone who has spent his whole life trying to prove himself. He is extremely intelligent has and most likely studied the history of strategic warfare, a combination of psychology and sociology, and of course, criminology. He doesn't see himself as part of a chain of command, but as a soul commander who believes he can order people to do whatever wants. He has been obsessed with the concept of love and family and how destroying in a way that would create the biggest spectacle. For years he has been carefully searching for the perfect artist to use describe his vision to world."

I fell back in my seat, exhausted. We just sat and stared at each other.

"You know I keep waiting for you to say something into your sleeve and everyone in the restaurant to stop what they're doing and draw guns on me and be informed that I am under arrest for conspiring against the US government."

He smiled. "Nah. We don't operate like that. We'd send the FBI in do it for us."

I let out a hearty laugh. Kyle began to write some notes. "Now we have a profile for the commissioner so I can find where my clearance ceiling is by going through every government agency that looks at BAU case information regularly. So again, what is his endgame? And also: What might sweet little Lila Archer have to do with all this? Is she the artist?"

"I honestly don't she is smart enough. If she is a murderer, she is a murderer who follows a specific M.O. that involves killing socially-awkward guys in exotic locations where they won't be missed. I don't believe her finding Reid was a coincidence though. The artist has some role in this."

"You do realizing you're ruling out our only solid lead as to what might happen next? And I thought you were worried that she might kill him in his sleep?"

I shook my head. "She won't want to kill him until the novelty has worn off. I did meet Reid once by chance recently. I have a feeling he's smart enough to scram when the time is right. I think this is just a means of giving the Artist and the Commissioner time to figure out how to complete their vision."

"Which is?"

I began to let images of the BAU team member flip through my mind. They all have a different story, arch rivals, and histories of broken relationships. Kyle began to mutter something.

"I have been spinning your crazy artist term around my head and it ringing some bells. Does the name Henry Rothchild mean anything to you?"

"No. Why?

"Then FBI did an excellent job of keeping what this attention-needy freak did out of the news. You're going say I'm extremely stupid for not coming up with this sooner. The case happened a few years ago. This guy killed in numbers according to the Fibonacci sequence. He chose the women according their facial structure. He had a rapid flash camera on so he would have photos of him killing and torturing these women. He also had a trap rigged to kill the whole team. And his brother is also a famous serial killer that Rossi put away years ago."

"And you have no idea where he is," I said trying but failing, to not sound bitchy.

"About two years ago, guy was showing signs of having severe dementia. They sent him in a van to the hospital and-"

"Oh come on! This sounds like the plot of the last Batman movie! I'm guessing the van was found at the bottom of a cliff and the guards were found with bullet wounds in their heads."

"It was actually a ditch and only one of them had a head wound. The other one got it in the neck."

We are truly terrible people.

"So do you think this Rothchild guy he fits the role?" I asked.

"No every part. The setting of the school doesn't fit or how long it took to put it together, doesn't add up."

"Well Da Vinci did have people help with his sketch work," I said. Knowing that I was grasping at straws.

"And the fact that he really liked Reid."

I stared daggers at him.

"The guy turned himself in after a recruitment presentation given by Rossi and Reid."

I checked my phone and rested my head on my hands. "So over the course of thirty minutes we have developed one weak profile, come up with one decent but untraceable suspect, and figured out that Lila Archer probably isn't our biggest problem. This sounds like either a bad joke or the premise of the next summer blockbuster."

Kyle began to put his stuff away. "I don't know about you, but that is a Hell of lot more than what I had coming into this place."

Some random piece of information flew through my mind. Reid and Lila first met at an art gallery opening. I remembered because it seemed quite convenient that the owner who introduced them was in Hong Kong on business right now. The next big exhibit was being unveiled at an enormous star-studded gala next week and it was being described as a provocative- Oh Hell, I think you know what's coming next.

I glanced around the restaurant and found what I was looking for. I walked over to the man and as politely as I could I asked him for it.

I came back and slammed the L.A. art section in front of Kyle.

"This is the end game."


	10. Chapter 10: Macrabre is the Muse

Hello All! I like to think I have been missed. Here are my reasons for not posting recently: 1.) Professional freelance writing related. 2.) I had some huge plot twists to figure out in my head. 3.) This may come as shock to some of you, but I didn't watch this show from the beginning. I have actually been watching DVDs of the show for last four weeks and just finished disc 2 of Season 6, where I finally found what I was looking for. And one special side note: You might find an interesting story in Criminal Minds/Batman crossover section.

Extremely tentative plans for the week ahead: At least a few more entries before wrapping this thing up. Some of the entries will be explicitly short to add to the drama. Others will be long because I have no idea how to break down the loose ends. Edits will be made if I can find the time. And without giving away details, an explanation for my summary will be given. Enjoy, and I sincerely hope I can deliver what I am promising. I like to think that things will only get more interesting after this.

Chapter 10:

Macabre is the Muse

Kyle quickly read through the article. "The exhibit is on murder? This is sounds creepy on so many levels."

"Thank you Captain Obvious." I grabbed the article and read the end: "'It is an exploration exhibit that delves into the mind of a murderer through abstract designs juxtaposed with images of crimes. The unveiling on Friday night is promised to be an experience the visitors will remember forever in their subconscious.'" I looked up. "So what is missing from the article?"

"The names of the artists," he said.

"How's this for a theory? It is a motion-sensitive installation that will kill people in ways that the BAU team discovered during their cases."

"I'm beginning to think you've seen too many Saw movies"

"You were the one to tell me to think 'outside the box'" I said angrily. "You were the one-"

He was smiling. "At ease Maya, at ease. I think you are on to something. Any ideas as to what to do next?"

"I think now is the time to use your C.I.A. resources to find out the contents and the artists featured in the exhibit."

"This should be fun. From the indications in the article, half of California is trying find out what is in that show."

"As opposed to breaking into Al Qaeda training camps, how could this be harder?"

"That's usually left to the Special Forces."

"Kyle!"

"Alright!" Kyle checked his cell. "Our waiter will be here in a few minutes. I really do need find a private place to use my all-powerful computer. Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?"

"I need to be at a meeting with my team by four," I said.

"Great, I am staying in the next district east of here. You think you can drive me there? I'll work while you drive. We'll see what I come up with and you can come back to the hotel after your meeting."

I leaned in, feeling a little paranoid. "Won't that make people suspicious?"

He smiled mischievously. "Not after you give me one juicy kiss in front of the hotel surveillance cameras and return with an over-night bag."

I think this guy might have stood a chance at making it in the business if he didn't go into covert work. The waiter came and Kyle delivered a large tip as promised. We went to my car and he pulled a laptop bag out of his luggage before getting into the passenger seat.

Kyle's laptop was large and clunky. "How does that help you to blend in?"

He didn't look up from what he was doing. "I don't bring this one out in public. This is my mother-board of information. I send what I need for field work to my iPad."

I let him work as I navigated through the maze of highways in L.A. There was something else nagging at me. The only obvious method behind this possible insane plan was to force Reid into the gallery to helplessly watch people get killed and/or be killed by staged versions of cases he and his team worked on. The idea was for the team to come back to the states and witness the results of this devious plan that they could have stopped if they hadn't "throw out the book." Okay I confess I believe that I might have played into the twisted plot by forcing them to abandon him. But I try to ease my conscience by thinking that they were set up to fail and if I didn't do my part, things would have still fallen apart.

Placing that thought aside, guilt is an extremely strong emotion that can haunt people for the rest of their lives. But how it "haunts" people varies. There are many unpredictable variables that can change the levels of guilt people feel: A new love. An even more tragic incident. A severe illness. If the goal of guilt has already been accomplished, how necessary was the rest of theatrics? And why was the team torn apart when the odds of all of them ending up in California in time-

"Kyle?"

"Yes Friday?" he said with his head bent down.

"Are you able to contact the agents?"

"That is beyond my powers I'm afraid. All these agents are involved in projects that don't require regular contact with the government. These are "off the grid" operations where we don't get the Intel until the mission has been either completed or compromised."

"What about the Rossi and the media woman?"

"We're kind of stuck there also. Given that Rossi was still considered a loose cannon, we kept loose tabs on him through discreet conversions with his publicist. She called from Venice, Italy three days ago and said he checked out of his hotel early. He left a note that basically said the tour was off and he had found a nice Italian woman to spend the rest of his life with."

"Okay, that is mildly plausible given his age and number of former wives. How about the media liaison?"

Kyle glanced over at me. "I'm not sure I like where this is going. She and her husband are on a sailing trip to the Bahamas on a privately owned boat."

I was so glad I had finished merging off a major freeway as he told me the last bit.

"In all fairness, Maya we had no reason to check on these people regularly. I only found about Jareau when I was chatting with one of her Pentagon friends who said something about her going on a sailing trip. Listen I know I said-"

"Alright let's put that theory aside. What did you find out from HAL 9000?"

He looked back at his computer. "A ton of stuff was ordered explicitly to be kept of computer networks."

"Okay so what is online? What about investors, gala invites, and the logistics of celebrities with body-guards and such?"

I realized my love of crime dramas was beginning to show.

"No direct trail to the gallery owner. The pitch piece handed out to potential investors was about as vague as the article. You'd be surprised to see some of the names of the A-listers who put money in this thing. I mean Nicolas Cage is a given but Helen-"

I should mention that Kyle Durmond only gets this jokey when he is really worried about something. It is a mental coping mechanism. "Kyle, please focus. What about the nuts and bolts of the exhibit? Fire safety inspectors must been brought in-"

"Things only get stranger from here. The inspector filed a report stating that everything was up to code. That same inspector ditched his phone and appears to have taken his family on a trip."

"Then there is the hugest blank spot in the whole thing. No loading reports under false names. Trucks have been spotted loading large crates into the back of the gallery. But this information comes from civilian gawkers. There have also been strange night reports, but gallery credentials were flashed when a pair cops dropped by. Given this city, doing night shipping work is not unusual when directors are trying to keep their next big project under wraps."

"How about invites?"

"They were sent from an untraceable server associated with the exhibit and vetted by the Gallery. Finding out who is going is taking a little longer as I have to use the good ole' homeland security route.

"Are Reid and Archer on it?"

"What do you think?"

"How about limo service, security, paparazzi barriers-"

"It is all very standard procedural stuff. A firm that handles these things regularly is in charge. They're setting up spots in front of the gallery for the ladies to pose in their 'bohemian-chic' ensembles."

I was hardly aware of the fact that I had turned into the parking lot of Kyle's hotel. A slight look of alarm came across his face.

"I just found an email being sent to agents of the invitees. It explains that all bags will be searched and cell phones will be collected before they enter the main viewing area. They will be returned after 'their viewing experience has been completed'"

"Well, the cell phone thing is sometimes used in secret weddings," I said as if to placate the sinking feelings in both our stomachs. Kyle didn't seem to be listening. He kept plugging away at his computer.

I got into a line of cars waiting to pull up to the check-in station. I thought of Reid. Kyle and I had been basically creating ghosts for the last two hours and there was a chance that we were completely off base. If we were right, a new, disturbing trap was being a set for him involving-

"Maya," Kyle said. The tone of his voice nearly made me jump out of my skin.

"I expanded the search radius for suspicious crimes near the gallery site. A pharmacy was broken into about two days ago."

"What was stolen?"

"Ingredients for home-made illegal drugs. The cash register was busted open. Energy drinks were stolen-"

"All signs pointing to your typical gang of street thugs. They must have messed up the pharmacy royally to make it look like they didn't know they were doing. Given that profile, what else was stolen that didn't raise the suspicions of the police?"

"A long list of neuron-inhibiting drugs. Stuff used to treat bipolar disorder, Alzheimer's, schizophrenia-"

I looked directly at him and touched his arm. "You've seen this list before haven't you?"

Kyle looked like he was about to be sick. "One of the last things Spencer Reid did before he went missing was speak in front of a parole board. A man charged with child molestation was up for transfer to a half-way house as he was a model-long story. Reid knew the man because he was the one who arrested his daughter for killing women she made into living dolls."

Someone honked at me to pull up. Kyle zipped up his bag and I helped him unload his luggage. We hadn't discussed what new show we were going to put on but I decided to take the lead. I hugged and kissed him. I massaged his shoulders and promised to meet him later. Our act had changed from "Former lover dropping off an old flame," to "former lover trying to comfort a grief-stricken old flame." I agreed to meet him again at the hotel at 8:00.

…

I got back to the clinic just in time to get progress updates. The stories these kids were returning with were interesting. I enjoyed switching gears from "Dan Brown book researcher of conspiracies that might be real" to a psycho-therapy research manager.

After the meeting I arrived just in time to feast on the newest Taiwanese cuisine creation my brother's wife cooked up. I let my DINK hosts discuss what happened during their day. They described their annoying co-workers, negotiating with contractors, and books vs. e-readers. No one seems to appreciate beauty of normalcy until you find yourself discussing art that may kill people in real life.

"Care to share what happened during your day All Mighty One?" James asked he grabbed the last piece of chicken. His wife had just the table to answer a phone call.

"I met up with Kyle Durmond for lunch. We laughed. We ate and looked soulfully into each other's eyes and he admitted to crying over me once when his car broke down."

"What is the current reason you give Mom and Dad for choosing not to become a lawyer? It is a job in which you would be paid to use your evasive answering skills."

I sipped the last of my tea. "I think it revolves my severe hatred of the sound of clicking handcuffs."

James finished eating and got up. "Always a pleasure Dr. Selzer." He put his dish in the sink and grabbed a large envelope off the cluttered counter. "This arrived for you in the mail."

I nearly jumped out of my seat to grab it. "And you're only telling me this now?"

"The world doesn't revolve around you Maya. I really wanted to have a peaceful meal before you became a complete basket case."

I hardly listened to him as I sprinted up the stairs to my room in the attic section of their house. Once inside I ripped open the envelope. My invitation to the Ball arrived with a letter attached.

"Dr. Maya Selzer:

You have been selected as a special guest to participate in the premier unveiling of, "The Macabre is the Muse" exhibit at the CM Gallery. We promise that it will be an experience like nothing other. You will also get to interact with some of the most fascinating people in the world while viewing this exhibit. We look forward to seeing you!"

It wasn't signed. The invitation was about the size and consistency of a credit card. There was even a magnetic strip on it. On the front of it was the same "knife in the heart of a flower" image featured in the paper. I had no idea what of to do with this. I decided to change into something more comfortable and head to Kyle's hotel.

…

What happened next would haunt me for years.

I pulled into the hotel parking lot and saw police cars without flashing lights. I tried not to feel alarmed. Criminal activity in hotels was nothing new.

It took a good hour to find out what happened: Kyle Durmond was dead. He had committed suicide using a gun he had a carrying permit for.

The police did get around to questioning when they learned I was one of the last people to see him alive. I tried to explain our worries about the exhibit without getting into specifics. They weren't listening. I asked about the laptop bag and they told me only an ipad was found. They finished questioning me within ten minutes. I couldn't get any further information. Hotel management wanted the police gone by the morning and they were quick to oblige. I walked away sad and frustrated.

I felt bad for Kyle Durmond. He came home to catch some sun, meet with friends, and chase a suspicious trail of administrative hack work. He knew something terrifying was at work but nothing this strange or this elaborate. And certainly nothing that would endanger his life.

…

This is the part where the lone single, feisty, and independent woman walks away feeling overwhelmed. The "All hope is lost," moment in the movies. The screen will show two minutes of her walking in slow-motion with a single tear leaking down her face. The viewers are caught up in the drama and cheer on their sexy heroine.

But like I said in the beginning, I am a fairly normal person. Normal people do not know how to rescue a group of FBI agents being held hostage in an art gallery. Where agents would be displayed in a recreation of where they were nearly murdered at some point during their time with the BAU. Where these agents would actually be murdered by people who most likely didn't know what they were doing as a result of mental manipulation. Where the viewers would watch the events and think that it was all part of the exhibit. They won't realize until the final curtains are drawn and that it was part of a larger plan to display and demonstrate the flaws in the management of federal law enforcement. To ask the question: If this group of highly-regarded agents could not be saved, how could we feel safe when another team is sent to find a killer?

And Reid was going to be there to witness everything.


	11. Chapter 11: Fakeness and True Love

Okay I sort of broke my first promise. This is not the most interesting "high adrenaline" chapter. Call me a reader-pleaser, but what the heck. I only had three uninterrupted hours to work on this today. Writing the action climax will require at least six with a few minor breaks. The last few entries had a lot of tension and plot staging. I needed to lighten the mood a little before I get into the lovely, potentially gruesome images, appearing in the next chapter. I may cut this one at some point after I finish the story. I also happen to have a thing for even numbers.

I am beyond grateful to have readers who like and care about the characters I created. Consider this chapter my thank-you note.

Chapter 11:

Fakeness and True Love

So it is Thursday morning and a murdering spree will be premiering on Friday night. What happens to a psychologist with an invitation the murdering event?

She gets a phone call from a celebrity stylist who wants to discuss what to wear to said event.

When I finally got home past mid-night, James was waiting and wanted to know what happened. I broke down and cried into my big brother's arms. I told him about what happened to Kyle. Without going into details, I told him about how he and I were worried about a group of disbanded FBI agents. I told him about my connection to Mathew Gray and that was why I was really here. James held me and listened. He did not judge me. He knew there was a lot going that I wasn't telling him about. James walked me to my room and said he believed that I would come to him if I got in over my head. Too many people put too much trust in me.

I was convinced I was still asleep when I heard my phone ringing at 8:00 a.m.

"Hello, Dr Maya Selzer. This is Kelly, a style assistant for Jane Clayton. I was calling to find out when you could come in to discuss outfit options for the CM Art Gallery event."

I paused for about five seconds. I was trying to decide if this phone call was a dream, or if everything that has happened since I came to L.A. is a dream and I was still living in it.

"Dr. Selzer?" she said.

"Hello. I'm sorry I believe you might have me confused with someone else."

"Are you Dr. Maya Emily Selzer of the Worthing Institute? The psychologist who is helping Mr. Mathew Gray create an accurate description of an autistic child featured as the traumatized witness in his thriller novel?"

Things went from strange to mind-boggling. But I had to keep talking.

"Yes. This is she. I'm sorry. I just wasn't expecting a phone call like this."

"Mr. Gray only notified us at the last minute to say that he wished to have you included in Miss. Archer's entourage. He said that you had been extremely helpful and was looking for way to show his gratitude."

What insane game was Reid playing?

"Well I am truly honored. I-"

"Would you mind coming in at ten? The studio is on the fifth floor of the LY Building. I think we can fit you in for about a half hour between Amy and Emma."

She abruptly hung up on me. I always thought Reid knew a lot more than he was letting on. Was he the one behind the invitation? Why does he want me to ber there with him? Is it possible that he was playing the game?

…

I was really pushing my luck with the tolerance of my absence at the research station. I kept telling myself that I was doing this to keep my job to treat Reid when I called to say I just got some tragic news about a friend and wouldn't been in until later in the morning.

Have you ever wondered about the accuracy of the character depictions in "The Devil Wears Prada?" I never did but I ended up finding out: The moment I walked into Jane Clayton's Stylist Studio all eyes were on me. Before I could even say my name a woman in her late twenties ushered me out of the reception office and into a space that looked like an enormous closet. Two other young women, also dressed in expensive urban street wear, came in and began to circle me silently. I began to wonder if Reid had done this to torture me.

Finally the tall brunette spoke. "I'm Simone Levine, Jane's chief associate stylist." She turned to the other girls. "Grab some…" I'm not going to even try to name all of the designer labels.

They began to pull random outfits and put them in front of me as I was positioned in front of mirror. They kept talking as if I wasn't there. As if I were a—very bad image appeared. I needed to focus.

"Excuse me? My cell phone battery just went dead. I need to call Mr. Gray to ask him about-

One of the girls suddenly pulled out a small envelope from her tight black jeans. "He had this message sent here."

I opened the envelope and found a hand-written note:

"Hello Dr. Selzer,

I'm sorry to put you through all of this. Please trust me. Just play along and I'll explain at the event.

-MG"

"Mr. Gray also recognizes that your lack the ability to think about anything beyond your work," Simone commented. "As demonstrated by…"

So I played along. I remained silent as Simone critiqued every aspect of my outer appearance. I obediently tried on outfits and matching accessories. Eventually they chose two looks for me to choose from and had them bagged up with return instructions attached. I was then pushed out of the office before I could catch a glimpse of their next client.

I made sure my make-up looked a little runny as I entered the research station. People asked and I gave choked up answers about losing a college sweet-heart. My performance may have been fake, but the thoughts and emotions were real. I was getting set up behind my desk when one of the younger interns appeared.

"Dr. Selzer? Was the name of your friend Kyle?"

I was so looking forward to reading about people whose lives were not in eminent peril. I looked up and saw that she was holding an envelope. "Yes. What is that?"

"It was found in a package of first aid gear sent earlier this morning." The girl had sweet brown eyes. She walked over to me. "It was addressed: From Kyle to Maya Selzer with all my love," She read my look of confusion as sadness. "I'll close the door behind me," she said quietly and left.

I opened the business envelope and found a flash drive. I plugged it into the computer. There was single file on it. It was a slide show. I pulled out a pair of ear buds and listened to the message as pictures of our college glory days appeared on the screen.

"Maya when you get this I will most likely be dead. I hacked the L.A.P.D data base and found their special projects files. Before I could open it my screen went blank and then a cryptic message appeared. I seem to have set off a silent alarm set by the killers."

"Before I hacked the database I did find out that you received an invite. From who, I have no idea. But I have a feeling that this is more of a vendetta against the government that is more of spectacle for the public than a threat against them. I think you should go as crazy as it sounds. Our conversations show that you are excellent at figuring out situations and will be able to figure out what to do when the situation gets dangerous. You need to be there for Reid. If he survives, I think you might be the only able to help him cope with the emotional aftermath."

The last picture showed us in our caps and gowns. Written at the bottom was: "We'll always have Stanford."

His last message was: "Maya Angelou once wrote: 'And suddenly we see/that love costs all we are/and will ever be/Yet it is only love/which sets us free.' Good luck Maya"

I once watched a TV show in which C.I.A agents described having to write their own suicide notes. Until now, I thought it was just a plot device. Kyle could have run out of town. He was placing the clinic in danger by smuggling this message in. But I think he had a plan in case a situation like this came up. I also think he knew he was a marked man and decided to do what he loved before he faced his fate: Be a hopeless romantic.

The truth is that I have only had three relationships that have lasted longer than the one with Kyle. He could have been the One. My mind turned back to Reid. I wondered if he had ever had a long-term relationship. The stupid stylist consultation confirmed my suspicions, that his relationship with Lila Archer was mostly superficial. It is possible that they were both using each other without know it.

I know I am getting schmaltzy and sentimental here. But can you blame me after hearing this? If this in any way could possibly have a positive outcome, I hope to God that Reid will be able to move on and find true love. And that he will be able to recognize the real deal, which I clearly failed at.


	12. Chapter 12: Always a Hero

Without further ado Ladies and Gentlemen:

Chapter 12:

Always a Hero

I once had an English teacher in college who told me that there is one thing that the heroes of every story ever written have in common: They are all idiots.

Think about it for a moment: If Hamlet had any sense, he would have ignored his father's ghost, looted the castle, and forced is his mother to leave rotten Denmark with him and start a new life. Think about the movie Gladiator: If Maximus hadn't taken the moral high road by refusing Commodus' offer; he and his family might have lived. In the book Da Vinci Code: If Robert Langdon had told Interpol what the sexy Sophie Neveu was planning from the start, he wouldn't have had people shooting at him for the next few days. Or how about something even more current? In the book, The Hunger Games Katniss could have just let her sister be the tribute. All of these characters chose to put their lives unnecessarily at risk.

Some people will argue very vehemently that heroes are in no way idiotic. These characters are brave and noble. They are doing what is morally right. We are the ones who are idiots by letting an evil dictator control our lives. These characters have special skills and talents that they must use to save the world. The heroes do not fear death because they know that good will win out over evil in the end.

That being said, they could still be considered idiots. So what does that make the shrink and the guy with no memory that choose to enter a death trap?

…

Friday happened to be the wrap-up day for the study in Skid Row. They would be returning in two months to do a follow-up. Everyone was leaving very happy with the work they had accomplished. Most of them were planning on staying another night to explore the city before going home to lovely vanilla Sacramento. I felt bad for using this group of kids as my reason for being in L.A. My brother Will recently helped re-model a theater in the NoHo Arts District and agreed to give me some half-price "Show and Dinner" tickets. The interns were beyond thrilled to get to experience some real L.A. culture. I was happy for them. Okay, I also did it to get them as far away possible from the epicenter of where their boss might be murdered.

I received a call from Lila's manager in the morning. She wanted to know what I had chosen to wear for the event and gave further instructions as to how and when I will be picked up. The gallery event wouldn't be open until 7:30 but I was told to be prepared to go by six.

During the hour before my carriage arrived, my fairy god-mother who happened to be my sister-in-law helped me prepare. I told her and James that I had been invited by Mathew Gray and gave them the reason he gave me. I knew I had to mentally compartmentalize at this point. I needed to act like I was nervous about going to a celebrity circus. My brother's wife was thrilled to help and carefully applied a bunch of different forms of makeup that made my face look like a work of art (she almost stabbed me in the eye with an eye-lash curler when I flinched). My outfit was composed of black slacks over a jade Grecian-style top. It was accessorized with a sapphire pendant worth more than my car on a silver chain with a cuff-bracelet and matching earrings. I was also provided with a silver clutch.

My sister-law thought I looked stunning and insisted on taking a picture like I was go to my prom. James looked like the parent who didn't know much about my date. Lying to him about this was probably the worst thing I have ever done to him. When my black sedan arrived, he gave me a quick hug and said: "Please tell you know you're doing." I waved to his wife and opened the door. "I really hope so James. I really do," I said as I left.

…

When I arrived at the CM Art Gallery, I knew this was the only sort of red carpet experience I would ever have. There was a huge court space in front of the gallery that was now covered in red carpet. Temporary walls with the gallery logo on them divided up the space. There were clusters of actors and other celebrities standing around and posing for pictures. I had pleaded with the driver to let me off at the private queuing area but he had orders to follow. A man in a sharp suit opened the door for me. I got out and was blinded by camera flashes.

"Are you Maya Selzer?"

I turned and saw a woman in a business suit holding a clipboard. I wanted to ask she'd like to swap outfits. "Yes," I said nervously.

"Then you'll need to walk this way and meet Miss Archer and the rest of her party over there," she said and pointed to a path that involved walking the route closest to the cameras. I wanted to ask if swimming through a pool of piranhas was an option.

"Ma'am you need to start moving. We have other guests," she said sternly. I then wanted to ask if she was forced to take this job after failing to get the prison warden role in The Green Mile. But instead I chose to start walking. I actually felt like I was walking down a prison corridor as people were shouting at me and I had a hard time moving in the stilettos I was given.

"Dr. Selzer!"

I looked up and saw the voice of my guardian angel approaching. Reid was dressed in black jeans with a midnight blue oversized blazer over a black shirt, and matching blue Gucci glasses. He smiled and waved at the jackals as he walked over to me. He gave me hug. "I am so glad you decided to come," he said. Then he said more quietly: "Smile and wave at them."

I did as instructed. "Can they hear us?" I asked with my face fixed in a smile.

"Not really. But they can read body language," he said under his breath. He then took me be the wrist and said loudly. "Come with me Dr. Selzer. Lila cannot wait to see my eyes of wisdom and voice of reason."

Reid made sure not get too close to me as he set our pace. I took cues from him as to how to act as I moved. "Would you care to explain why you invited me?" I said under my breath.

He made sure to be looking in a different direction when he answered. "I had nothing to do with that. When I found your name on a list in Lila's computer I decided to have you moved closer to me for your safety."

I stopped and stared at him. "Mr. Gray-"

He suddenly checked his gold Rolex. "Dr. Selzer, we're going to be cutting it close if Lila insists on finding how you came up with idea for me to include synesthesia in my story." He quickened his pace a little.

I followed and wondered which Reid I was walking with. This couldn't be the pre-abduction Reid. I knew that because the re-union of the two halves of his mind would have made him incapable of this kind of showmanship. So I wondered it was the frustrated defiant man I met in Wyoming. The camera mugger I saw on TV. The witty cerebral guy I came across in Skid Row. I was certain that these were not separate personalities. So I wondered what combination was leading me towards a group of trendy people with a psychopath in the center.

"Dr. Selzer it is a pleasure to meet you!" Lila Archer said sweetly. She was wearing a blue short dress covered in black vertical stripes. Her blond hair was held in a loose bun secured at the neck. She wore a silver choker necklace.

"Mine to too. I have to say I'm feeling a little star-struck right now," I said as we half-hugged.

Reid rattled off the names of the seven other people in the group. They were mostly B-list actors and a pair of directors "looking for inspiration in the macabre." We were still visible to the cameras so people waved and smiled.

"So Dr. Selzer, Matt tells me you're still a practicing therapist," Lila said.

"I feel it is the only way to keep in touch with the psychological environment of society," I said.

"You know I'm starting to get horrible nightmares again. I was wondering if I could talk to you about them?"

I thought of Andrea Tanner and her tracking bracelet. Venomous rage began to fill me. Luckily Lila had her head turned and Reid was quick to start laughing.

"I really don't think she wants to hear about your fears of my singing karaoke at your manager's wedding." Everyone laughed and I looked appropriately confused. The guy I met in Orlando was in no way comfortable with self-depreciating humor.

Finally a gallery staff worker approached the group. "Ladies and gentlemen you are in the first group. You may proceed through the entrance."

We all smiled and waved as we made our escape. "It's an honor to be one of the first viewers of the exhibit," I commented.

"You're lucky to be with the biggest sponsor of the exhibit," Lila said slyly. I was about to give Reid a look but he ignored me.

The walls of the lobby were covered red blood spatter patterns. A group of professionally dressed men and women greeted us. They politely asked to see our invitations and that the women would open their bags. Our invites were verified and a gold metal box for the cell phones was passed around. When everyone passed through the metal detectors one of the staff members asked that we, and the other two clumps of people, gather near the exhibit entrance.

"I hope you are all well-aware of the fact this is not an exhibit for the faint of heart. I should warn you that many of the images are extremely graphic. This is also a performance art exhibit. Some of you what you see may be alarming, but keep in mind that this is only art and it is against the law to perform and actual crime. There are also some participants mixed in among you. They are actually part of the exhibit and it is important that you stay calm and not interfere. Just keep your eyes and ears open and allow yourselves to be lost in the 'Macabre is the Muse' exhibit."

There was some light applause. I felt a chill go down my spine. "Everything is going to be fine," I heard someone whisper behind me. I looked and saw the hunky lead actor from the latest Silver Surfer movie smiling. Something seemed off though.

"Dr. Selzer?"

I looked up and the co-star in Lila's next movie was standing next to her and Reid. "You're with me," he said and beckoned me to the entrance. Since only two people could go through the door at once we were all being lined up in pairs.

"Since the lovely Miss Lila Archer is the lead benefactress of the exhibit, we thought it would only be fitting that she led the first tour. Without giving away explicit details, she was instructed as to when to stop and drink in the first work of performance art. Given the fact that the entire exhibit has a specific pace collectively established be the artists, she will then start moving and rest of the group is expected to follow suit."

The poker-faced staff worker opened the door and said: "Welcome to the mind of the macabre," he said.

Lila clung tightly on to Reid as they walked through. Her co-star awkwardly held my hand as if we were in the buddy system. I watched Reid kiss the top of Lila's head as they were engulfed in darkness.

…

The center of the space was dark with exception of black lights showing a line of spatter shapes on the floor to follow. The place reminded me of an aquarium with glass cases on the walls. Our first stop was in front of window on our left.

Poor sweet Penelope. She seemed like such a colorful flake on the computer screen. With Reid, by her side, Lila took eight steps and they were at the end of the rectangular window with a full view of the display:

There she was: In a colorful dress standing frozen on brick walkway. Her eyes were moving and she had a look of pure terror on her face as man in a suit who we could only see his back of aimed his weapon. I ducked when I heard the sound of gun-fire. I was terrified by what I thought had happened.

No one spoke and I slowly straightened up. There was a bullet hole in the glass and the man in the exhibit was on the floor bleeding. I suddenly turned to see my "buddy" holding a gun.

Lila looked completely shocked. "What's going on?" she shouted. "This wasn't part-"

"Now now sweet Lila. Remember this all part of the exhibit," Reid said softly into her ear as he held her.

My only thought was: "WHAT THE HELL?"

Reid kept speaking in an encouraging tone. "Come on dear, we need to keep moving like you told me. There is more to see." He held her in his arms and led her to the next window. No one said anything. They all thought it was part of the exhibit.

In the next exhibit Hotch was on the floor slumped wide awake against the left wall in one of his terrifically tailored suites. A guy in a hood and mask was holding a knife and started plunge a knife into him. Another gun went off. I didn't flinch this time. I watched at this guy was shot in the side and fell behind Hotch.

Lila screamed. "This isn't right! This needs to-"

Reid shushed her again. "Don't worry Lila. Everything is going to be fine." Reid was practically carrying her at this point.

This one was different: There was a woman and girl on the bed with their wrists and ankles duct taped. I would later find that this was the family of the missing fire inspector. Derek Morgan was slumped against the foot of the bed also duct taped with a bleeding gash on his forehead. There was a large ugly old man with matted gray hair holding a gun to his head. The fingers holding the gun twitched and suddenly the guy was slammed on his back as a gun went off.

Lila was hysterical at this point. She was making loud screeching noises. Reid acted like the calm sweet boyfriend trying to comfort his girlfriend who clearly had no idea how shocking the exhibit was going to be.

I wouldn't find out until later that Rossi's "exhibit" wasn't something he actually experienced. He was laying with his wrists and ankles bound in chains on what looked like a crude metal autopsy table wearing only a pair of black slacks. A gray haired man was holding a hand-made shocking device that was lit and was holding extremely close to Rossi's chest. I think you know the drill, but let's keep going: This guy or "UnSub," was shot straight in the chest.

I think I'll point out some of the logistics I observed in between Lila's hissy fits. There was more than one shooter. They were all men in the entertainment industry whose female companions looked both confused and intrigued.

I swear to God Reid looked like he was almost enjoying this. He was massaging her shoulders and promising that everything was going to be alright.

Prentiss looked the most beaten up of the group. The walls were gray and cracked. Her clothes were torn and she was covered in bloody cuts and bruises. Another creepy-looking guy was holding the ragged edged piece of wood and was also about to plunge it into her. And of course another dashing young man who was known for holding fake guns in the movies fired his weapon. This guy fell across Prentiss. There was a smattering of applause after this one.

Lila pulled away from Reid and started to stomp her feet and wave her arms. "None of this was supposed to happen! This was supposed to be a piece of art! A beautiful work of sadistic cruelty!"

"Oh sweet darling Lila you are a truly wonderful actress. Now I have no doubt your name will be heard on TV when the list of Oscar nominees is announced."

Reid was barely hiding the sarcasm in his voice now. "I'm just not sure if you will be able to watch the announcement on TV as it is typically happens on East Coast time while in jail for being an accessory to attempted murder."

Lila screamed and ran at him. But Reid caught her wrists. "Or if you will even be in a jail with access to American television. Thanks to a tip, you are currently wanted for questioning as a person of interest in three missing person's cases in South East Asia. Or you might end up a little closer to home as you are wanted for questioning as a person of interest in four murder investigations in the Caribbean."

And then the actors approached. A couple still had their guns out and the others pulled out pairs of handcuffs. One of them pulled out his badge.

"My name is Captain Edward Berner of the Los Angeles Police Department. You are under arrest for aiding abetting attempted murder assault…"

They led her away in handcuffs crying. I'd later learn how exactly they determined her guilt based on her specific words used in her "performance."

One of the audience members quietly approached one of the officers. "Is this part of the show?" she said.

The officer's face was unreadable. "I don't believe exhibit is over just yet. Continue your viewing experience. My officers will stay until it is over."

I ran ecstatically over to Reid. "Mr. Gray you knew all along? How the Hell-"

But Reid wasn't smiling. He actually looked angry. "I was lured into this by Lila. But she is not the mastermind. Someone knew I would figure this part out. Someone who-"

"Excellent work Dr. Reid." A voice boomed through the room. "Now it is time to face you final challenge."

The entire room lit up and everyone was blinded.


	13. Chapter 13: The Sacrifice

Thanks for the great comments! This is one of two entries that I will have a comment at the end of.

Chapter 13:

The Sacrifice

My English teacher pointed out another thing that most heroes have in common: They must make a sacrifice.

There are a million different interpretations of this concept. The heroes sacrificing themselves are the common link between Roman/Greek literature and Shakespeare's tragedies. It was also part of early American literature, in books such as The Scarlet Letter. This is still seen in modern fiction, grab any four Jodi Picoult novels at random and you'll notice a pattern. And a pair of multi-million dollar blockbuster movie franchises is based off books aimed at young adults danced around this particular interpretation.

But more often than not, these days the sacrifice is a portion of the hero's identity. A very convoluted example is a storyline in a Spiderman comic in which Peter Parker makes a deal with the devil to erase the revelation of his secret identity in exchange of for the existence of his marriage to Mary Jane. In a couple of John Grisham's novels the heroes choose to run away from their past or go into witness protection. In Dan Brown's books the rogue scholars must abandon their quest for the truth because certain revelations about the past may arouse levels of uproar that would damage the state of society. The most interesting movie example is where Batman at the end of The Dark Knight chooses to take responsibility for a series of murders to protect the white-knight perception of Harvey "Two-face" Dent.

So what kind of sacrifice does a man with no memories make?

…

The shock of the light faded and everyone was able to see what was in the center of the room. It was stage mounted five feet off the ground encased in glass. There was glass door with a key code lock on it at the base of a set of stairs that led to center of the scene. There was a man on the stage wearing a black suit and knight's helmet that covered his face. There was another man who looked like Orson Wells dressed in white medieval priest robes. I recognized him as Henry Rothchild, after looking up his name when Kyle suggested it. And in between them there was a woman dressed like a princess in a pink flowing gown. She was mounted against a purple board with her wrists chained on either side of her and her feet clasped that the base. She was crying as she struggled fruitlessly. It was Jennifer Jareau.

I watched Reid's reaction closely. For the briefest moment I saw his eye soften with wide eyed confusion. I saw the shape of his mouth change. For two seconds, I saw the man I met in Orlando. This freaked me out more than what I saw on stage.

But his face and body stance changed like lightning. He looked angry and aggressive again. As the cops aimed their weapons glass the man in the robes said: "Don't even try. This glass is military-grade bulletproof. I lied when I told Lila that the display cases were bullet-proof." The cops then began to escort people out. I refused to move and whispered to them I was a doctor and needed to stay with Reid. Rothchild then pulled out a large dagger and brushed Jareau's cheek with the side of the blade and looked at Reid. "The only person who can save Agent Jareau is you Dr. Reid."

Reid was beyond lived.

"What the Hell do you want? I have played this psychotic game exactly as you planned it! I know you're the one who had my memory destroyed. You made sure Lila Archer found me in Utah. Being an under-the-radar murdering psychopath, she had happily agreed to seduce me as part of a mass murder plot where she could watch and enjoy the bloody mayhem. You trusted her to be so careless that I would over-hear her phone call about getting me to L.A. to witness a murder plot. Lila loved her little boy-toy so much that it didn't take long to get free reign of her house. DAMMIT! The files of on how the murders were being staged WERE ON HER DESK TOP! All I had to do was call the cops and explain why it was important to catch you and your team of freaks in the act as no one knew how many other lives were at risk."

He was breathing hard at this point. "I played your game. You got me to care again about a group of people I don't know. A group of people who see me as their genius who could look at bloody pictures and identify the murderer. Now these people are going to recover and are going to want me in their lives more than ever. You could have killed these people a long time ago. SO WHY DO YOU WANT TO KILL HER?"

Rothchild looked completely un-bothered by Reid's reaction. "You played my game exceptionally well Dr. Reid. Now it is time for you to choose your reward."

Rothchild played with the dagger in front of Jareau. "I believe you are correct in your assumption that these agents will spend the rest of their lives trying find ways to reach out and thank you. They may restrain themselves for a period of time, depending on the strength of Dr. Selzer's persuasion skills."

He suddenly glanced over at me. "You also did an excellent job Dr. Selzer. I don't think I could have gotten Reid and Lila to meet without your help. I just wish you hadn't decided to try to be the hero and ended up getting your boyfriend killed."

"Don't pin any of this on her!" Reid shouted. "You're angry because you thought you had made puzzle only I could solve. She got pulled into this for exact same reasons I was. She found out people were going to get hurt and wanted to help stop it."

I couldn't let my feelings of grief and guilt show. Rothchild seemed to enjoy to watching Reid lose it. I didn't want to give him more emotional entertainment. So I decided to be the idiot damsel and speak up.

I clapped my hands. "I have got to say you guys really do know how to put on a show." The look of confusion on both Reid and Rothchild's faces emboldened me even more. "Dr. Rothchild you are truly a genius in making murder, torture, and abduction into a meticulously crafted work of art that involved collecting pieces from across the country. But the thing is Dr. Rothchild, I do know something about obsessively driven creative minds. I have no doubt you'd spend days mapping out your ideas and certain thing didn't really matter to you such as paying your rent, eating, sleeping, or even bathing. Because you knew that what you were doing was so much more important in the grand to truly amazing scheme of things. So I have to ask: Who's the guy who made sure your physical appearance was as organized as your mind? Who's the guy who had to shove you into a shower every once and while? Who's the guy probably quite literally had to wipe your ass?"

The guy with the helmet ran towards me. "You insufferable bitch!" His voice echoed somewhat through the helmet but you could still understand him. "I didn't care about how Rothchild lived or acted as long as he got the job done. He couldn't have done any of this without me! I was the one who plucked him out of his cell to allow him to create his vision using my connections! I was also the one who personally put a bullet through that reckless agent's head."

I refused to let him get under my skin. "So stop letting Reid and Rothchild take credit for all of these coordinated hits that the BAU never figured out. Reveal your face you demonic piece of work!"

Who remembers watching the Wizard of Oz and wondering who the all-powerful wizard might be? And then see the curtain pulled and-

The man threw his helmet off. It was the guy no one really knew. It was a guy who blended into the office of the BAU like a filing cabinet. The only person who strongly reacted was Jareau.

"Anderson?" she gasped.

He walked over to Jareau. "Yes, Agent Jareau. It's Anderson. I have been working as the disciplinary action committee's informant since Hotch killed Foyet. Would you believe the amount of resources I had access to? The amount of money I could use in the name of keeping guys from going completely off the grid and start taking justice into your own hands. I was the one who convinced them to keep your team together after the Doyle incident as I needed you guys to screw up spectacularly one last time."

"Reid's desire to take the hit for the team at the hearing showed that he was the only one fully aware of your reckless actions. I became more confident that I chose the right member to break. He was the emotional weak link of the team, but he was also the voice of reason. When you guys lost it by forcefully trying to make him remember who he was, then it was a sign that you could no longer function properly. I was the one who over-saw the proceedings from the shadows. I was the one recommended that the team should be finally disbanded!"

He took a few deep breaths. At some point he changed from sounding forceful and triumphant, to that of a bragging school boy. His laughs were brief gleeful chuckles. "Would you believe that those administrative morons let me handle your re-assignment paperwork? You were all drowning in your sense of guilt that you didn't think the fact that I was sending you all into different parts of the world seemed odd. Rossi actually believed that stupid load of crap I sent under IRS letter head about all his assets being frozen. Once you all arrived at your pick-up destinations, it was like grabbing a lost kid off of the streets!"

"Are you satisfied Anderson?" Rothchild asked. "You just let an impulsive, over-confident shrink provoke you into revealing a level of malicious hatred no one would have ever thought you had. I thought you were going to let yourself be taken into custody quietly, so that people would spend years pondering how some like you manipulated the whole system. Now you sound like one of those pathetic villains in the cartoons who has to explain their plans to feel victorious."

Anderson pulled out a gun and ran towards Rothchild. He pushed the gun into his forehead. Rothchild remained perfectly calm and his eyes flickered towards me. "Well played Dr. Selzer. The divide and conquer tactic is old and passé. But it is still mildly effective."

I looked over at Reid. His breathing had finally steadied. He had stopped shaking. He looked calm and focused. I could have sworn he threw a look of gratitude at me at some point during Anderson's monologue.

"Put your gun away Anderson," Rothchild said. "I don't doubt that you could kill me right now. But I assure that things will end with much less drama if you do. Killing me would only show that you cared more about your ego being bruised than completing your final act of total agency morale annihilation."

Anderson slowly put his gun away. Rothchild turned back to Reid. "Now where were we Dr. Reid? I believe this the part where I give you a chance to free yourself from your past once and for all."

"Why would you want to do that? You stripped me of my past once, then forced me to get involved in lives of these people who are strangers to me. What do you want?"

"I know you don't remember me Dr. Reid. I was in the back of every lecture you ever gave in the D.C. area. I watched the way Rossi looked completely embarrassed to be speaking to that group with you. You have a brilliant mind Dr. Reid. Someone like you should never be forced to live a life where you people can only see who you are from one perspective. With the right treatment you could be free from you the behavioral 'ticks and quirks.' You could find a new way to live your life and still be able use your extraordinary reasoning skills in different ways."

He suddenly turned and gently brushed her face with the hand holding the dagger. "But you would have never been truly free from the BAU. Despite Dr. Selzer's admirable job of letting you move on, they would have eventually found the moral strength to track you down. Love is a truly powerful thing and it needs to be lethally damaged to in order to break the connection completely. I set the trap for you to show how your moral compass still guides your every move; even towards the people who heckled and tried to show you life that you clearly wanted nothing to do with anymore. They may feel completely indebted you right now, but I can change any feeling of that towards you once and for all if you let me."

He suddenly raised dagger high. "There is a keypad on that door. Enter the numbers of your new social security number and you will be able to get in and make a choice. Let me kill the woman and no will ever bother you again. You won't go to jail as you were acting under extreme duress. The agents will finally realize you care more about living in peace than you do about the life of one of their own."

"You really think that is an option?" I shouted. "You just said the guy had an incredible moral compass! You really think he wouldn't stop you from committing murder?"

I looked at Reid. The look on his face made almost made me stumble.

"Anderson has shown me your file Dr. Reid. You have endured some unspeakable things."

Reid's whole body was trembling. "I can see it your eyes Dr. Reid. You are completely terrified of discovering a world of pain and hurt. The emotional sensations are boiling under your skin. You don't want her dead but you don't want to feel scared and vulnerable. Living in Lila Archer's bubble wasn't the most pleasant experience, but you discovered a sense of peace and contentment that you truly loved. It may take while for that to return after this, but you will find your way back without having to look over your shoulder to find agents hounding at you."

I looked pleadingly at Reid. "Mr. Gray please don't let this happen! I can say for a fact that this will haunt you for the rest of your life!"

"Did you know that Dr. Selzer only personally treats three patients every month? She spends more time judging the work of others than actually meeting with patients. She has seen a few patients for three years who finally chose to to switch therapists citing the fact that weren't satisfied with level of progress they were making under her guidance."

"That's not fair," I stammered. "I-

"She then covered her tracks using crafty wording. Her professional demeanor and use of witty sarcasm is very disarming. She is the youngest person ever to achieve that administrative standing. Dr. Maya Selzer is a pathetic power-hungry woman who veils her level of narcissism with the title of therapist. In many ways she is not that different from Anderson."

I felt like I had just been mauled. I couldn't cry. I just felt like a failure. I noticed that Anderson looked positively delighted to see me reduced to pieces. I forced myself to look at Reid.

He looked like had been punched in stomach. When he saw me looking at him, and the look of furious betrayal in his eyes made me wants to sink into the ground and disappear. I couldn't save Reid.

"Now you know you are truly alone in this world right now. You can trust no one to act in your interests. Let me set you free."

Reid looked at Jareau. "Sorry. Miss Jareau."

I screamed and ran towards Reid.

Please do not ask me how exactly the following events happened. I was still reeling from the tongue lashing of a life time. I was exhausted from the number shocks I had endured over the past two hours. I had truly lost all the ability to see and connect things mentally.

I seemed to have come to my senses when I heard a gunshot. I found myself on top of Anderson trying to pull his gun away from his head and saw the bullet wound. I slowly got up and began walk across the stage. I saw Rothchild first.

The dagger had been plunged into the base of his neck. One hand was still gripping it. I couldn't tell then whether he was pushing it in or trying to pull it out. Then I saw Reid and Jareau.

Reid was working on undoing the chains on her wrists. He looked her in the eye. "Are you okay?" he asked.

A serene smile came across her face. "I am now Spence."

Reid looked like he had just been shot. He fell down on one knee. But he quickly recovered and began to run as cops began to fill the area below the stage. He ran to the door and I chased after him.

...

Damn! I had only a rough idea as to how I was going to move the plot forward in this chapter! I really cannot believe what I just wrote. Some of it sounds crazy and implausible. And few you might a little bothered by how I wrote last paragraphs before the finale of the chapter.

My original purpose for ending a chapter with a note was this: The English teacher I mentioned in the last two chapters is a real person. His name is Laurence Shine. It seems only fitting that I find myself mentioning him in March as he is originally from Ireland and still has a soothing brogue. If you choose to look him up and find the school where he is teaching at, I guarantee that he is one of the best reasons to consider going there. This chapter dedicated to you Laurence.

I believe it will be around 4:45 in the morning when this is posted. I will have to up by 8:00 A.M. I then work from 3:00-8:00 P.M. I believe I am slightly crazy for staying up this late. So you may have to wait a couple days to see my next chapter online while I reset my mental clock.


	14. Chapter 14: The Voice

Surprise! I'm back with a new entry! This is probably my best chance at adding a new chapter. I will plunge into the next one before I go to work in the evening and try to have ready by Wednesday morning (no promises!). The story is consuming a large part of my mind. I really need to end it soon to focus on other things I'm sorry to say. I believe there will be about three more deliciously long chapters to this story. The last two chapters were intense and action-driven. This and the next one will be intense and just plain tear-jerkers. You will not regret suffering through the first several chapters to get to this point. Read and review as always.

Ending on a final happy note: The team will be making an appearance in the next chapter.

Chapter 14:

The Voice

I ran after Reid. I had no idea what I was hoping to accomplish. All I knew was that I just couldn't let him go. He meant too much too me.

H snaked through the different hallways of the gallery. I had a feeling he had helped the cops map out the building and knew all the exits. I did what you see in the movies and kicked off my heels to move faster. I saw him slide to stop in the middle of a hall and pull open a door. I got to the door and exited also.

The door had opened into a surprising wide and long alleyway. He was about twenty steps ahead of me and moving towards a street.

"Mr. Gray! Talk to me!" I shouted.

He stopped and turned. "And why should I do that?" he spat at me. He looked beyond angry.

"What do you plan on doing now? You can't run away from this."

He actually walked up to me. I think he wanted to punch me.

"This is my life Dr. Selzer. You have no authority over how I choose to live."

I tried to remain calm. "You are hurting Mr. Gray. You were given a shock that you will not-"

"Who do you think you are?" he shouted. "You just love to boss people around. You got a high out of ordering those agents to do what you wanted. I can see that now. You don't really care about-"

"That is not fair!" I shouted. "Yes I do love my cushy office. I do enjoy telling people how they could have done a better job. I do have a huge ego. But make no mistake. I do care about my patients! I will do anything make their lives better!"

"Then why did you abandon them and chase me down in L.A.?" he asked. "You're like those agents. You think you're the only one who can 'save' me."

I was letting some of my personal anger boil to the surface. "You really think I am that flighty and emotional? I made sure that all my patients and other work was being taken care of before I chose to 'to whoosh down and grab little Mr. Gray from the claws of the monster.' I know you figured out that I thought Lila was dangerous. But I don't think you know how. I played tennis with Lila's former therapist for months. Lila toyed with that woman's already fragile state with her insane stories. You may not think highly of my intelligence right now Mr. Gray, but I believed that this woman's ramblings had some truth in them. That extremely bright doctor had been verbally tortured to the brink of insanity by Lila Archer. I just couldn't sit back and watch that happen to you!"

"But you really didn't do anything to help me," Reid retorted. "In fact I was the one who saved you! A cop called me when they found your friend's body to ask if I knew of any rogue agents who were also in on the plot. They mentioned your name and I remembered seeing it on the invite list. I was worried because: A: You might do something stupid and compromise our plan to catch the guys. Or B: They were planning on going off the script and kill you at the exhibit to drive their home the point that no one is safe from them."

He never pushed my buttons like this. "Mr. Gray do you really think I am that naïve? I know I am not a secret agent. I know that I am not Lara Croft from Tomb Raider. The truth is I came to watch the other people do the rescuing! I was going to let my friend in the C.I.A do the heavy-lifting because he was a trained agent. I only helped him come up with a set of profiles. He chose to get involved because he cared about those people too!"

Something seemed to dawn on him. "You came because you thought I was going to crack. That if I was forced to start remembering things, you would be here to turn me back into Spencer Reid. I will not let you do that!" he shouted and began to walk away.

He was not getting off that easy. I followed him. "Okay Mr. Gray you're right I did come here to pick you up." I clapped my hands. "I came here to have you tossed into my magic laboratory where I would have your brain smashed into goo, add some hocus pocus and you would emerge as the stimming skinny guy who can name all of Ted Bundy's victims and the members of the Manson Clan as if they are part of the alphabet. That is exactly why I came here!"

He stopped for a moment and looked over his shoulder at me. "I'm sick of talking to you. Leave me alone." He stepped up his pace.

I stood my ground. "I can tell you exactly what's going to happen next!" I yelled. "You are going to re-invent yourself again and keep a low profile, like you wanted from the start. You will find some peace and possible a rewarding job because you are resourceful. But the problem is, this day will haunt you for the rest of your life. You will try to forget about it, but you can't because it's too raw. Eventually you'll resort to online pharmaceutical drugs, but they won't work either because they're phony. You'll end up on trying Xanax, PCP, and eventually heroin. You'll do anything to forget what happened, even if it means ending up passed out in a drug den. You'll do anything to destroy that memory of Jennifer Jareau saying: SPENCE! SPENCE! SPENCE!"

"Stop!" he screamed and ran at me. He grabbed my shoulders and began to shake me. "Stop! Stop! Stop it!"

"I bet you never stopped wanting to know why Jareau can't watch a Redskins game without thinking about you. That you have been resisting every urge to just Google her name to learn more about her."

He loosened his grip on my shoulders a little, but still looked enraged. "What does that have to with anything?"

"You fell in love with Lila but you cared about Jareau even more in a different way. I found out why. Aren't you a little curious?"

He violently pushed me onto the ground. I landed on my back. "Why are you doing this to me? I thought you cared about me. I thought you wanted to help me move on!"

I sat up. "This is not moving on Mr. Gray. This is running away. Do you even realize how angry and violent you are right now? You are being pulled apart by a hundred different emotions. The strength of your anger is the only thing keeping you upright. If you walk away from me right now you are going to end up running. You will not stop running until you are out of breath. You will collapse on ground somewhere and fight every urge to cry because you are truly alone. You are free, but it came with a price: Your desire to feel safe in your own head."

Reid stood there and looked down at me. I don't think I have ever worked so hard to reason with a patient. The alleyway was dimly lit but I could see his face crumble and contort. He looked so lost. Not as Spencer Reid with the trembling throat and glassy-eyed confusion. But as a guy who just realized he did not have as much control as he thought.

I talked as I got onto my feet. "Mr. Gray I promise I won't let you lose the parts of the person you are that you love. I can't promise that it won't be painful. I think we both know there are psychological wounds festering deep beneath the surface. I will help you heal in a safe environment. You will not face your fears alone! I will help you find the peace you need to move on."

I was on the verge crying as I took a step towards him. "Take my hand and I won't let go! I won't let you go until you can fly free."

His face contorted again away as if was thinking of something. "That voice," he said softly. "I have heard it before."

I looked confused. "What? How-"

"Not those words exactly. I recognize the tone. The level of intensity. The sincere desperation. It is my voice Dr. Selzer."

"Mr. Gray I'm not trying to force you to-"

"I don't remember when or where I use it," he said. "I remember the feeling of joy when I succeeded." His voice was cracking. "But mostly I remember the sense of utter failure when I didn't."

I'm not sure I liked where this was going. "Mr. Gray your refusal will not destroy me."

He shook his head several times. "I know. But your sense of confidence will shaken. You will question your ability to help people. I can't let that happen to you. Especially when I know you're right!" He gasped and his head fell onto my shoulder. His body was trembling.

I awkwardly put my arms around him to stay on my feet. He was not the heaviest man in the world by an enormous long-shot, but I couldn't keep us both upright with the way his body was moving in my grasp. I managed to hug him a little more and get him to sit on the ground. I made sure an arm was still loosely wrapped around him.

He began to rock a little and he let out short panicked breaths. The guy was still trying to maintain some sort of dignity he thought he needed in order to remain Mathew Gray. He was fighting very hard to keep himself from crying.

I pulled out a phone from a pocket. I got the idea from the last Batman movie. I brought two phones. I gave the dummy to security and had real one hidden a hole I had carved out of the lining of my purse. It was such a crazy swapping process I still can't believe it worked. I needed it for this exact scenario.

I dialed the number Melvin Morris had given me. It was a favor from one of his patients that I could never have earned. He got the approval from his patient for me to use it. This was just another thing that I would never be able to thank him properly for. I called the number and in ten minutes I got what I needed.

A car pulled up and I guided Reid into it. He didn't put up any sort of fight. I did need to take care of the legal medical authorization process. I turned on the recording feature of my phone and asked for Mathew Gray's verbal consent to allow me to treat him as I saw fit. Sensing the importance of what I was asking, he managed to relax long enough to give a firm, audible, answer. It wasn't the strongest binding agreement, but it was something.

The specific variation of Dramamine I requested was also included in the car to my surprise. I told Reid that he and I were taking the fastest possible route to the mental health center. I needed for him to take the pills to ease his anxiety. He looked at me uncertainly and I lightly rubbed the back of his right shoulder and told him that it would help. He took the pills. About an hour later we were standing at the base of a helicopter base on a tall on building. I can't say much about the man behind all of this. I can describe him as a business man with access to latest state of the art helicopters in the world. This is how I was able to get Spencer Reid to The Worthing Institute before five o'clock in the morning.

…

I managed to get a very drowsy and exhausted Reid into the room I had prepared for him. Melvin had been right on the money when he said that I had been planning this moment from the beginning.

I decide that it was best for the moment to keep him in the clothes he was wearing with the exception of his glasses, shoes, and blazer. I carefully covered him with a soft, but firm blanket. For a few minutes I watched him sleep. He twitched occasionally and there was a grim look on his face. I brushed away a sudden tear as I left his room.

I went to the nurse's station. I pulled out the chart I had prepared for him. I added a note about the use of Dramamine and how I thought his medication dosage should be altered. I know this sounds a little unethical, but I needed to have something planned and it would only be administered as needed. I personally checked to make sure that footage of his room was streaming onto a computer and the motion and noise sensors were active. I looked him sleeping one last time from there.

I was beyond relieved to finally have Reid within my fortress of safety, and comfort. But I still felt terrible. He was going to wake up in a state of fear and confusion. And it was only going to get worse. I was prepared to not sleep much from this point on. I needed to be there for Reid as much as possible as he made his descent into Hell and help him find his way out.


	15. Chapter 15: Prelude to the Descent

Reading the last chapter with fresh eyes today I can see that I had a good handful of spelling and grammar errors. I know this is generally not a good excuse, but I really want to get these entries up as fast as possible to keep up the momentum. I am still checking my work, but some stuff is just escaping my notice when I stay up this late.

I realized that this entry was just way too long to be read in one sitting if I were to include it with what happened to Reid. I thought what happened to the team really deserved full entry. It is a little all over the place, would be putting it mildly. It kind of feels like a movie or TV show from the way the characters move around. Please humor me. There was just ton of stuff I felt the need to address and throw some random fun. It is long, feel free to skim and there is big description near the end showing what Reid is going through. Please don't hold it against me. The crescendo is coming I promise.

Just please, PLEASE REVIEW! I haven't gotten that much feedback lately and I really would like to know how people feel about the way the story is starting to wind down.

Chapter 15:

Prelude to the Descent

Mood stabilizers. Antipsychotics. Antidepressants. Benzodiazepines. They are the psychologist's and the psychiatrists' the best friends. Low dosages of some combination of these drugs can help ease the patient's mental suffering. They can be used to slow down the patient's rapid descent into a psychotic break. Yet why did none of these seem to be helping Reid?

I was reviewing the notes I took during my meeting Reid's psychiatrist in my office. It had been eight days since Reid was admitted in to the Institute. This was only the third time I had felt comfortable enough do work this far from where he was kept. I had been clocking in some sufficient sleep time lately so I was feeling a little more relaxed. But today I was frustrated.

"Dr. Selzer?" The lovely blond secretary popped her head in. "That group of former agents has arrived."

I smiled. "Excellent!" I stood up and grabbed a few of my clearance tags and put them around my neck. "Is the V.I.P conference room set up as I instructed?"

"Yes Ma'am."

I rummaged around my desk and found the stack of booklets. I picked up the heavy pile. "Cindy, would you mind giving these to them for me?"

"Of course not."

I gave her a warm smile. I learned from what happened with Anderson to treat the people below me on pay scale with more gratitude.

"Thank you. The only other thing I ask is that you have someone escort a man named Aaron Hotchner to entrance Section D1 RC."

"Certainly," Cindy said and smiled back.

…

I found the former BAU SSA Unit Chief Aaron Hotcher looking in good health. He was as always, dressed in a well-cut suit. He had a smile on his face. I relaxed a little. I was also glad I had decided to wear a knee-length skirt and put on a little makeup.

"Hello Mr. Hotchner," I said.

"Dr. Selzer, please call me Hotch." We shook hands. "Thank you for agreeing to see us. Though I'm not sure why you had me brought here."

I smiled at him knowingly and put my pass to the scanner. I opened the door. "Come take a walk with me Hotch."

Section D1 RC was a series walk-ways with large windows that showed what was going on about two floors below us. The first area we walked by had a set of billiards tables set up and the people were having good time.

"Interesting place," Hotch commented.

"I know," said I said as we walked. "I know you have a bunch of questions. I have a bunch of questions. But first tell me about what happened to your team since the Inquisition. I promise will start to answer questions eventually."

"Okay," he said. "None of us knew what was going on with each other before it happened. We didn't really feel like talking much after that except to say where we had been re-assigned. For me, I arrived at me at the airbase early in the morning and found a van waiting for me in the parking lot. He was in uniform, showed me his credentials and told me to get in the van. I blacked out after that." He winced. "I was so careless, I should have-"

"Hotch," I said. "Let it go. Tell me what happened to you during the following weeks."

"I think that's the worst part in some ways. I've been beaten and gagged. But when I woke up I found myself on a comfortable bed in a brightly colored room underground. It looked like a single-room apartment. I found shelves filled with all my favorite book. There was a flat-screen TV with no broadcast or cable connection but there was a DVD player and stacks of my favorite movies and an old game console. The closets were full of comfortable casual clothes. The bathroom was functional and clean. He had done all of this to make me feel as comfortable as possible. Why?"

"How'd he get food to you and how'd he get you shipped to L.A.?" I asked as we stopped to watch a game being played in racquet ball court.

"The food was slipped through a tray in the door that I spent the first few days trying pull apart. One day I was pacing around room when it began to fill with gas. I was convinced I going to die before I passed out. Everything is still fuzzy after that. I remember seeing the rest of the team before we were being 'staged'. The next thing I knew I was on display and was horrified when I saw Reid. Reid." He paused trying to control his breathing. "He saved us all and didn't-"

"Take it easy Hotch. Relax. What happened after you guys got out of that freak-show?"

"Once the drugs wore off and had several hours of rest. We all met in a hospital conference room. It turned out none us had been seriously hurt. All of the cuts and bruises you saw were makeup. The chains and duct tape were real, but nothing else was except the weapons they were going to kill us with. We shared information and found out that we were all imprisoned in the exact same way. I put in a phone call and learned that Anderson had managed to secure the use of an underground nuclear bunker. It had been outfitted to for heads of state to live there in comfort for prolonged periods of time. And with the exception of Rossi and Jareau, we had all been kept there together without knowing it!"

He looked so frustrated. "Why did he do that to us? Why didn't Anderson target me? Why did he have to have Reid-"

"Hotch!" I stood in front of him. "I didn't ask you these things to upset you. I just needed to learn why you were still in California. Why you didn't call my office sooner to be honest."

This made him smile a little. "Are we that predictable?"

"Yes," I said playfully. I led him down another hallway and we could see a gym containing basketball hoops.

"The doctor insisted that everyone need stay a few days. We were all interviewed by both the doctors and the police. We all got in touch with our families. The police hadn't told us much about Reid other than to say that he played in an instrumental role in our rescue. It was Jareau or J.J. as she likes to be known as, who told us she saw you chase after Reid. We all independently came to the conclusion that we couldn't head home without trying to find out how he was doing." He looked at me with a little concern. "I really hope that doesn't sound unreasonable."

"Not at all, Hotch. Not at all," I said and lead him down another hallway.

"Why are we here?" Hotch asked as he followed me. "I know you like playing mind games-"

"So glad you noticed. "

"But what is the point?" he said with a note frustration.

I stopped and stared out at the area below us. It had a rectangular swimming pool. In one half there was a woman coaching a teenage girl on how to tread water. In the other half there was a woman playing with a young girl in the shallow end.

I stood there pensively for a couple minutes. I kept my eyes on the scene below as I spoke. "Hotch I love coming up here. I like to watch people laugh and play games. I like to see them comfortable in a place that isn't a formal therapy room. Watching patients who have gone through some of the worst imaginable physical and emotional ordeals acting like average people gives me strength. It gives me hope that I can free my patients from the confines of the walls of both their rooms and their minds." I looked at Hotch. "I am going to need to a lot of that strength in order to help Reid."

Hotch looked at me with amazement. "That is a beautiful way of looking at things Dr. Selzer."

"Thank you Hotch." I turned and face him. "You know aqua-therapy can be a very soothing experience. Once Reid is a little more stable, I think I might try working with him in that setting. What do you think? Do you know if Reid enjoyed being the water for fun?"

He looked uncomfortable for a moment. "I- I really don't…" A thought was beginning to form. "Dr. Selzer you are the worst therapist in the world!" He began to pace towards me.

I was bent over laughing. He looked a combination embarrassed and furious. "You wanted to put a picture of Reid swimming in my head."

"You actually thought I would put Reid in a pool! Even though I know nothing that suggests-"

"You knew how uncomfortable that would make me feel!"

"I bet thought the thought of Derek Morgan swimming laps doesn't freak you out."

He was trying to very hard look pissed. "You're trying to see how I feel about the psychical appearance of my agents! You are so-"

He was failing quite miserably. I was almost crying from laughing so hard. "Watching the look on face was like watching marble crack." I calmed a down a little. "I needed a good a laugh and you look like you could use one too."

He finally let go and began to laugh. It was an odd sound. It started a stutter and grew a little louder. We both let ourselves laugh out our frustrations. He was the first to speak. "Thank you Dr. Selzer. I guess I really did need that."

We began to walk again. "I think you can guess what happened based on J.J.'s account of the events. He began to remember things."

"J.J. feels really bad for-"

"J.J. doesn't need to apologize for anything. He was going to 'crack' even if she didn't say a word. I managed to convince him that coming here was the best thing to do in order save his mental state.

There was a small alcove with a pair of chairs and a table in it. I sat down heavily. "Spencer Reid is beginning to remember things. To try to have these memories suppressed would be detrimental to his health."

Hotch sat down in the chair next to me. "What kinds of things?"

"Nothing that relates his abduction or how his mental state was altered yet. Right now your agents are in the V.I.P conference room enjoying a good. They are filling out a very lengthy booklet of questions compiled by me one my colleagues with a strong sense of humor. They are all questions relating to Spencer Reid. Some of them are your typical team-building questions such favorite food, most embarrassing moment, and biggest phobia. There are also questions relating to some of his worst experiences. I want answers with different perspectives. Friends share things others might not know about." I looked Hotch straight in the eye. "There is a booklet waiting for you down there too, and I really need detailed answers about everything. Two trusted secretaries will be typing this all up and then the only other people who will know about them are me and my team of colleagues working with Reid. I really need you to trust me. Can you do that for me?"

He touched my hand. "You have my word Dr. Selzer. I will give you everything."

"There are two other things I'd like to ask you about. One is: What happened to the contents of Reid's apartment?"

Hotch smiled and laughed a little. "You're going to think we are crazy."

"Nothing you guys have done so far has indicated that your team isn't 'extremely unique'"

"That is very nice way of putting it. When he was missing for more than a month, Rossi and Morgan had gotten into an argument. In the end they agreed that Rossi would pay for the apartment and Morgan would take care of the upkeep."

I just stared at him. This was nuts, unhealthy and-

"Rossi owned the house were the parents of young children were murdered for twenty years. This wasn't a big deal for him."

"Okay," I said, trying to sound less flabbergasted. "Next I want to know, what do his parents know about his current whereabouts?"

"We haven't kept in touch with his father. We eventually got around to calling him to say that his son was missing. He didn't seem to react."

"His mother is a paranoid schizophrenic and has been in a sanitarium for nearly fifteen years. She was the one to call us two months after he went missing and demanded to know happened as he hadn't been writing to her regularly. We told that we believed he had been abducted. She refused to believe it. She thought we were lying to her and that we were the one preventing him from contacting her. She was relentless in trying to find which agency might be holding her son hostage.

"We decided to use Reid's contingency plan. In his apartment we found a packet full of unsealed letters to his mother. He had left a note saying that in the event his abduction, or murder without a body that could be deemed presentable, to send one of these letters once a month."

His consideration for the needs of others never ceased to amaze me. "How many letters did he write?"

"Thirty. Before we mailed them we had copies made of each letter. We tried to find clues about what might have happened to him. Most of them were just slightly altered accounts of what happened throughout his years on the team and a large amount literary analysis at the end as his mother was an English professor. I brought a copy of the letters and they are the conference room."

"Thank you," I said.

"Now may I ask you a few questions?" he asked.

"I can't promise you satisfactory answers."

"I understand," he said. "Let's start with a few basic questions. How is all this treatment being paid for?"

"We have an endowment that covers the costs associated with severe, unique cases of mental trauma induced by violence."

"So have you have come to the conclusion that he was indeed tortured?"

I tried show that we had found proof. "I think you know that there really was no alternative."

"What can you tell me about how he is feeling right now?"

I stood up. "Let me show you."

He looked surprised by my offer. "Won't this break some confidentiality rules?"

"I have already taken care of that. Trust me," I said and took a few steps. "Come with me."

He sat for a moment and then got up and followed.

I showed him to the room. "Only I and three of my other colleagues working with Reid have access to this room. I held the door open and let visibly nervous Hotch enter first.

There was really nothing remarkable about this room at first glance. It had a computer a computer and some couches. The interesting feature was the window that lined the entire back of the wall. It was slanted so that the viewers could look down and see what was happening in the room below. I beckoned Hotch to come forward.

The room had a large window let in natural sunlight. The walls of the room were painted a soothing shade of blue. It was mostly empty at the moment. I promised that it would be personalized in the future. In the center of the room was Spencer Reid.

He was lying in a bed in a hospital gown. "As his memories from his former life began to emerge became confused by what fabrics felt comfortable on him. It's especially difficult for people with Aspergers characteristics, who hate the feeling of certain textures."

His eyes were closed and he was twitching as he kept moving from side to side. There were books scattered on a near-by table with his glasses on one of them. "He's not really sleeping. He's just trying to block out all the thoughts hitting him at once. We are giving him low dosages of mood stabilizers. They don't seem to be effective." I had been watching this scene daily and it was still a painful experience. I turned nervously to see Hotch's reaction.

He looked beyond overwhelmed. The sight almost seemed to sicken him. This was the kind of guy who hated to display any raw emotions. His arms were wrapped tightly in a protective position. He was blinking rapidly. I stepped in front of him to block his view.

"Hotch I brought you here to see him for a reason. I know that you and team are trying very hard to suppress your hope that he will come back. I believe that there is a strong possibility that he will want you in his life again. By showing you this I am hoping to alter some of your preconceptions of what the timeline might be."

He stood there silent, almost shaking. I placed a hand on his arm. "I can't say that things are going to be alright. He is going to get a lot worse before he gets better. I think that he will tell us what happened and we will then be able to treat him better." I suddenly placed my arms him. "Hotch I'm so sorry!"

He let me hug him for the briefest moment and then turn around and took a few steps away from the window. "Does he say anything?" he asked.

"Random snippets," I said. "Sometimes he moves around and asks why he isn't at the school. Other times he spouts out facts about the origins of Halloween. He really loves that holiday." Hotch smiled at this.

I decided to dive into what he really wanted know. "He told us about how Prentiss once beat him at cards and he still can't figure out how. When Morgan thought he was nuts when he tried to offer him dating advice. How surprised he felt when you made a joke after he set off a mini-projectile in the bull pen."

This seemed to make him feel better. But then he said: "You're not going to tell me about of his negative memories associated with us."

"I don't think you need to or want to know at this point. What I can tell you is that I am prepared let you guys contact him he wants to hear from you. It would be on his terms and under my super-vision at first. I make no guarantees that this will ever happen."

Hotch looked a little happier upon hearing this. "The team will be happy to hear that."

I walked him to the door. "I am not going to meet your with the team. You can decide what they need to know. You can tell them everything and that's fine. But I think that it is best that they hear it from their trusted leader."

I opened the door and we walked down the hall. I pressed button on my pager. "A staff assistant will take you down."

We waited for a couple minutes.

"Dr. Selzer why do you think all of this happened? Why did they torture Reid and not the rest of us-"

"I can't encourage you to keep thinking in loops like this Hotch. Sometimes labeling people as 'evil' is a sufficient answer for the time being. You need focus on reconnecting with your family at this point. And try to figure out how to re-build your career. Any ideas as to how that might work?"

"I have been in contact with the F.B.I. The amount of havoc Anderson raised has overwhelmed the Bureau. An inside source has hinted that if everyone passes their psych evaluations within the next five weeks, we might be put on the fast track for re-instatement. There is a ton of sympathy for what has happened to our team. The team might be re-assembled and given cases as early as the end of August."

I clapped. "That is terrific news Hotch!"

My pager beeped. "This is where we part ways Hotch. Maxine will take you down to the conference room. Stay as long as you need."

Hotch shook hands with me. "Thank you Dr. Selzer."

"I hope this helps," I said.

I watched them as they began to walk to the elevator. "And Hotch, one last thing!" He turned his head round.

"Reid keeps wondering if J.J. has noticed how a picture frame had been cracked after he babysat Henry."

Hotch turned around and looked at me with one of the brightest smiles I have ever seen. It was a truly precious site. I felt a little weak-kneed. We seemed to jive well together. He had everything I wanted in a man.

I smiled back. "Later Hotch," I said and walked in the opposite direction. I didn't want to ruin the moment.


	16. Chapter 16: The Descent into Hell

Okay finally the scary stuff. First there will be little set-up information about what they Dr. Selzer's team has figured out so far. And a little about what price she had to pay in order over-see Reid's treatment.

I am giving this chapter a cautionary M Rating. I don't plan on getting too graphic. I am one of those people who think that the mind comes up with worse ideas base off hints and implications.

Read it through to the end. It is extremely long and I know I could have cut some stuff. I can tell you that believe sense of style improves with every chapter. I just loved how I ended this chapter. And please review as always.

Chapter 16

The Descent into Hell

Reid was cracking fast and I was still not sure how to keep him from going into shock.

Before going any further I'd like to explain how I got full control of Reid's treatment. I had a lengthy discussion with Shannon Davis during the afternoon Reid had arrived. She was beyond furious with my behavior. I managed to convince her that it would be only harm Reid's ability to recover to have me removed from the case. Call me egotistical, a control freak, and reckless. I made a deal with Shannon: She could have everything she ever wanted from me, so long as I could oversee Reid's recovery. I know that makes me as bad as the agents he worked with. But the demand for psychologists is growing, so I wasn't worried.

There were a few very disturbing physical changes we had discovered. One thing was his eye-sight. His FBI medical records showed that he was far-sighted and only needed glasses occasionally when his vision became weak after hours of over-exertion. We analyzed the prescription coating on his lenses and learned that they were much stronger. An eye-doctor was brought in who has worked with patients before managed to settle Reid down to get a good look into his eyes. He nearly fell of his stool. There was still some medical scar tissue present.

The other thing was the lack of medication effectiveness. I have reviewed as many remotely similar cases I could find and they all showed that the patient responded well to medication. We were barely able to get him to sleep using these drugs. He screamed horribly when I had a few blood samples drawn. Our lab found some extremely minute abnormalities in his blood. I decided to put in a few calls to some of the larger labs in the country. I had been waiting for the results for three days when I decided it was time to call for help from my favorite FBI agent.

The funny thing was that the agents all left business cards attached to their booklets. I called up Hotch and kept the conversation brief. I asked if he knew of anyone with extensive government resources to analyze some blood samples I took from Reid. He said he'd put a call into a woman who specialized in this sort of medical research.

I received a call from Dr. Linda Kimura at around six o'clock in the morning the next day. She had pulled some strings and was able to get access a blood sample. She said the abnormalities were connected to his exposure to anthrax. She explained she was the one who treated Reid when he was infected and wanted to help in any way she could. I found Kimura to be very sweet and decided to offer her a position on my team. The psychiatrist who had been on the case was frustrated by the fact that I hadn't told him about the anthrax connection because I thought it wasn't relevant. He was happy to step down.

Dr. Linda Kimura exuded a sense of warmth and kindness that was truly unique. She wasn't repulsed by the site of Reid and understood that since she had a history with him, she couldn't be in contact with him. I made a very dangerous decision to have her visit Reid. My reasoning was that he had been treated by her as a doctor and might respond positively to her presence.

I explained my reasons and she agreed to check his blood pressure. I watched fearfully from the lower observation room.

He was growing more agitated by the day. He wasn't hurting himself yet as he was so lost in own head and howled out random thing bits of what might have happened to him. Dr. Kimura gently approached him with a serene smile on her face.

"Hello, my name is Dr. Linda Kimura. I am here to check your blood pressure."

He looked at her suspiciously and I thought I was going to scream. "Do I know you?" he asked.

"There is nothing to worry about, I am just here to see how you're doing," she said quietly. She took a hold of his arm.

Then a miracle happened. He responded positively to her touch. He held his arm still as she his wrapped arm. When she was done she said: "Very good. Thank you." As she left he shouted out "Will I see you again?" She looked back and smiled. "Maybe," she said.

Melvin was standing next to me as watched the scene unfold. I was tittering. "Melvin, do you know many possible ways that could have gone wrong. It might have triggered-"

"Maya the risk paid off. Stop worrying," he said.

I was so frustrated and honestly scared. "Melvin, I'm not sure if we're prepared for what is about to happen next. I have a truly horrible feeling that what he tells is going to send both him and the whole team into shock."

"Maya, no one knows how this is going play out. You have been planning this for weeks. There are no case similar case files to develop an exact plan from. I trust you and you need to trust yourself."

During the meeting at the end of the day it was decided that Linda Kimura would be allowed to participate in helping Reid when he hit rock bottom. The other members of my team were Melvin Morris and Mitch Dunn. I know Melvin is an adolescent therapy specialist by but he had also spent time in Africa to help rehabilitate child soldiers. And honestly he was my rock, my voice of reason. I had come to depend on him to make sure to I didn't lose it. Mitch Dunn was a D.I.D. specialist in his late forties who had treated prisoners of war veterans' before coming to the institute. I chose him because was he also knew more about the history of psychological torture methods than I did.

I ended the meeting with a quick speech. "Ladies and gentlemen I am sure you are well aware by now that we are fast approaching the eye of the storm. I hope everyone has their phones charged at all times and ready to arrive here within fifteen minutes. Dr. Kimura has provided us with a list of medications that might be more effective than what we have been using until her own modified versions are synthesized and ready use for strictly our specific patient experimental usage."

My face softened a little. "I think we are all scared. That is normal and I would be worried if you weren't. Having said that, I need you all to be brave, strong, and ready to face the challenge ahead. I trust all of you and we will do our best to treat him. Thank you."

Everyone nodded seriously and got up. No one spoke. There really wasn't much to be said when Reid's condition screamed volumes for all of us.

…

Some you might be wondering why I never asked Reid to call me by my first name. It is a fairly common practice these days as it builds a bridge of trust between the patient and the therapist. Though the usage varies according to the patient, setting, and the disposition of the therapist. My reason: I didn't want to wake up in the middle of the night hearing Spencer Reid screaming my name in the middle of the night.

It happened the day after the meeting. It started around 11:00 clock at night. I had only left the institute six hours earlier and was watching Anchorman to take my mind of things. A nurse called to say that he was screaming and pulling hard at his hair. He was demanding to be let out. He kept promising to be good and do whatever he was told.

I broke a few a speed limits and arrived within ten minutes wearing a pair of jogging pants over a Stanford T-shirt. It was more important to be dressed comfortably at this point because it was going to be a long night. The nurses had done as I instructed and placed him in a brightly-lit padded room. I know it sounds inhumane and dated, but the alternative would have been having him restrained in bed and that would have only re-enforced his delusion that he was indeed trapped. I told the nurses to go return to their stations and watch from their computers and let the orderlies help us from this point on. The rest of my team arrived. There were computers just outside the room where the team could watch what was happening with a little more privacy. We decided that Melvin and I, along with a pair of orderlies would be the first to enter to try talk Reid through everything.

When we entered, he was pulling at his hospital gown and clutching the sides of the pants underneath it. He wanted know why he was wearing it. We spoke in calming tones and asked him what was happening so that we could help him find his way out. He looked wildly at us and lunged forward. The orderlies held him back as he shouted that he wouldn't let us hurt him more. We told him no one wanted to hurt him anymore. He shook head vigorously. He had been promised that before. Reid kept struggling until he realized he wouldn't be able stop us from attacking him. He began to cry and begged us not to-

The rest is too disturbing to describe. Two minutes into his description, I waved my signal to the cameras. Mitch pressed a button on his computer and had the audio connection to the nurse's station was cut. Though the nurses had special training to care for patients with extremely violent forms of psychosis, they didn't need to hear this. There was a recorder patched into a wall that copies of could be distributed later.

Melvin made his signal. He wasn't getting through to Reid. I wasn't doing much better, but he seemed to identify me as the less threatening person. Linda came in next and kept trying to get him to look at her face. After a few attempts he did look at her and he seemed to calm down a little. When she opened her mouth, he began to scream again. He wanted to know why it was so bright here. He said deserved to stay hidden in the dark for the things he had done. He had-

I made a second signal and to have the orderlies switched out. This seemed to agitate Reid more but this was a judgment call on my part. These men had families. They couldn't be strong for their families with Reid's screaming horrific descriptions constantly flying through their heads.

I think everyone knew from the beginning that I had no intention of leaving his side when he reached the bottom. Linda tagged out when he began to call her "mother". He was beginning to see her as the comforting female figure that punished him horribly. Mitch came in as a meek, feeble figure that needed his help to find his courage. Reid just held his head down he said wasn't capable of helping anybody. He was a pathetic weak man who couldn't-

I understand that you might find my decision to cut descriptions at this point to be very frustrating. So I'll give you an overview of what happened to him: He lost his sense of identity. He would be tortured for long periods of time in a dimly-lit underground room dug out of a section of the basement. He was then left alone in the dark for long periods of time. A slot would be opened periodically and a sandwich and a bottle of water would be dropped down. The goal was this: Get complete control over him. To abuse him until he said he had no idea who he was. He began to beg them to tell him who he was.

When he tired himself out and it was clear he couldn't fight anymore, I signaled for the orderlies to leave. It was just me and Reid in the room. He lay on his side and hugged his knees to his chest. He rocked a little. I kneeld next to him.

"Please, stop," he whimpered. "I don't want to be here. I promise I'll be whoever you want me to be. I am nothing. I am-"

"The strongest man in the world," I said. "No one shall question the strength of a man who has defeated darkness by creating a burning bright light from the heart and mind of his soul." I had run through every counseling technique I had ever learned. Both my parents taught literature and showed me and my brothers how to create our own identities through literary prose. There was a romantic soul in him and it was time to draw it out.

"I couldn't stop the darkness. No can one stop the darkness," he said as rocked.

"But you did," I said. "The light is shown through your eyes. It is produced by a human body that refuses to be devoured by the darkness. The darkness has been defeated because you continue to live. You have sought out the light and have committed you life to being its protector. As long as you produce light, the darkness will always fear you because you have defeated it before."

"I protect the light?" he asked and stopped rocking.

I thought I was going to fall over. I was actually getting through to him. "You are one of its strongest protectors. The light depends on you to help the others guard their light."

"Who else protects the light?

I wondered who I should identify. The people who have been helping him throughout the night? They were the ones who were helping him find the light throughout everything. But I was tired, my judgment was getting cloudy. I would question why I did what I did for ages to come.

We had all agreed to keep our phones with us during the process. I told everyone that I trusted them to decide whether the features their phones could help situation if the time was right. I knew Linda had nature sounds on her phone. Melvin had circus music on his. Rick had a large screen that he would use show people laughing and playing. I had recordings fifteenth century poetry spoken in the old English dialect.

I pulled out my phone and scrolled through the menu options. I laid down my side and held the phone close to his face.

"These-," I said as the picture of Derek Morgan with his phone number on the screen. "These-," I said as I pushed a button and Rossi's picture appeared. "And these-," I said as Emily Prentiss's face appeared. "These are-"I said as I put up a picture of Hotch. "These are guardians of the light," I said as J.J.'s picture appeared.

He seemed to recognize them. He looked less scared. "Where are they?" he asked.

"They are watching you from a great distance. They don't need to be able to touch your hand draw strength from your light. Because the knowledge your powerful light gives them the strength to help others defeat the darkness in their lives."

He looked so tired. He rested his head on the padding.

"The light still glows when you close your eyes. The darkness trembles in fear because you aren't afraid of cover the light in your eyes. Because you are so committed to the light you will always open your eyes again when you're ready."

"Is it really safe to close my eyes?" he asked drowsily as he began to move his body into a more comfortable position.

"I promise," I said.

He tucked his arms near chest, and closed his eyes. He moved around a little more find the right position. He open his eyes a slit. He said in a barely audible voice: "What are you?"

I knew I was pushing my luck at this point but I decided to push forward."The light is beautiful. The light is strong. Each light is so unique and powerful that they must have names. Those who fear the darkness need to know the names of the most powerful lights in the world. I am the one who helps people find the names of the light protectors."

I laid my head next him to as his eyes opened little more. "Those fear darkness feel safer knowing the powerful light called Spencer Reid is here protect them." I rubbed his arm. "Go to sleep and let name of your light fill your mind with peace."

He nodded his head twice as he closed his eyes. He was fast asleep within two minutes. I slowly inched away and sat up. I waited him sleep for another five minutes and felt comfortable leaving him.

I closed the door quietly behind me. Kimberly was crying as she leaned against Melvin's shoulder. Mitch was dumbfounded. Melvin looked me with interest.

"I thought you said the 'elegant ability to create wisdom through stories,' gene wasn't passed down to you?"

I smiled and laughed a little. "You'd be amazed at you can come up with under pressure," I said. I looked at my time on my phone: It was 3:00 A.M. I turned to the team.

"There are bedrooms ready for all of you. There is no point of even trying to go home at this hour. Try to get a few hours of sleep. I am not trying to be over-protective of him or have developed God-complex by doing this: But I want to be the first doctor he sees when he wakes up. Then we'll go through telephone chain as planned."

"We made some of the most remarkable progress imaginable tonight. This was truly a group effort. Everyone played a vital role in the positive conclusion of the ordeal. But this is far from over. He will still most likely wake up agitated and confused. He will need all of us now more than ever. Good work and Good Night everyone."

I think all of them wanted to ask me some questions but I had a stern look on my face. I watched and made sure everyone left. I glanced one last time at the monitor. He looked like a sleeping angel.

…

I will not take credit for everything that happened. Everyone played a vital part.

I walked through the darkened hallways of the institute. Every single member of the BAU mentioned how much Reid feared the darkness. It made sense to use the idea of telling him that he was a protector of light. I actually paraphrased the concept from another source.

I walked to part of the institute that I have only visited a few times in the last ten years. My first patient to commit suicide was a twenty-one year old college student. During a post-midterm party she was abducted by a fraternity that has since been disbanded. She had been chained to a headboard and assaulted for eleven days before the cops found her. I believe the monsters were released about two years ago. Her parents brought her home and she was assigned to me during my third year at the Institute. Every time she was made the slightest bit upset, a spaced out look appeared on her face and she started singing Bible hymns. When I met with her she said an angel came and dwelt in her body to protect her during bad times. I spent six months trying to help her understand that the angel preferred to watch over her as she found love and joy with her friends and family. Two days later she jumped off the top of her apartment building. Her parents didn't blame me. They said one of the last things she said was that her angel told her to come and embrace the eternal bliss of the after-life. I stopped believing in organized religion. I hated God.

I had my pass scanned and opened the door to the small chapel. It looked like your standard multi-faith dwelling space. I leaned into a kneeler in front of a cross. I had hidden in the back of the church at the girl's funeral mass. There was a song played that I still cannot get out of my head. I sang parts of it quietly under my breath in the chapel:

Light of Christ, Light in the darkness

Light of life, Living Jesus

Light of Hope, Light of the World

We are the bearers of Light

We are the bearers of Light


	17. Chapter 17: Waking Up

I really wanted to have this to be my second-last chapter. But I decided a portion of Reid's recovery process deserved one chapter. I have been updating this thing every night and I felt the need to keep up the momentum. The beginning has a lengthy Reid-Maya discussion. I did want to address how Mathew Gray is still involved and few other personality developments. The rest is full of references to episodes of the show, some of which are funny. It is not my strongest chapter but I'm not sure I'll ever be able to top what I wrote yesterday.

A special thanks to my regular readers. I had no idea where this story was going and I think that is a little obvious. Thanks for sticking around.

All reviews are welcome as always.

Chapter 17:

Waking Up

I had been asleep on a cot in my office for about four hours when I got the text. I was extremely impressed. I had only planned on get three at the most. I ran a brush through my hair and ignored the looks of slight amusement as I passed my colleagues to see if Reid remembered anything that happened last night.

Reid was sitting up against the back wall of the room when I appeared. He looked very tired but his eyes were alert. There was a contemplative look on his face. I noted a hint of smile when he saw me and my heart sang.

"How are you feeling today?" I asked.

He sounded a little lost. "Tired. Drained. Like I just lived my entire life story in only a few hours."

"That understandable," I said as I walked over and sat down next to him. "Do you remember what happened last night?" I asked, slightly nervous to hear what his reaction might be.

He stared straight ahead. "Yes. But it feels surreal. One minute I'm screaming and scared out my mind because I thought I was trapped again. The next minute I'm on the ground and you're telling me about how I am a 'protector of the light'." He looked at me and began to laugh. "I think that is the hardest part to believe. Dr. Selzer do you realize how strange that sounded coming from you?"

I was a little aback by the remark. Then I also laughed. "I don't look like the kind of person who tells stories?"

He turned to face straight ahead again. "Every conversation I had with you before involved assertive reasoning. Using metaphors to describe strength, confidence, and identity, just doesn't sound like a therapy technique you use."

"We are all full of surprises," I said. "Especially you."

He didn't seem to be listening. "You know there are a million different ways the concept of light is used. The sun was basically the first thing to be deified during the development of civilization. There are so many different examples of it in fiction and I wish I remembered more of them."

His scrunched up his face with frustration. I was about to tell him not to push himself when he started again.

"The story that comes most clearly to mind is one that I came across while I was teaching in middle school. We were discussing the characteristics of Manga, when a girl told me about how a series called 'With the Light' by Keiko Tobe. Looking back I believe that she couldn't have found it on her own. It was probably given to her by a parent to help her understand how her sibling acted."

"The series is about a mother raising her autistic son. He name 'Hikaru,' means light. When he was formally diagnosed with autism as a toddler, the father went into denial and the mother picked up the slack. The boy was never in the darkness psychically. But he did't seem to recognize the light. He needed people to take his hand and show what the light looks like. By the end of the book, it is Hikaru who shows the other characters a different way of viewing the light.

It was really fascinating to listen to Reid sounding like Reid. But I was lost here. I just looked at him. "You know I am not your mother. And you are not-"

He looked at me. "I thought part of developing my own identity involved discovering happiness on my own. But then you showed me how that I can't really live with the light without knowing about the presence of light in the form of other people who care about me." He proceeded to lean over and give me a hug.

I thought I was going to cry. I never cried in front of my patients. This was way too much. I took some steadying breaths. I had to focus. "Thank you. That really means a lot to me. So what is your name?"

He leaned back. "Spencer Reid."

"Are you okay with no longer using Mathew Gray?"

"Mathew Gray is the person I needed to become in order to move forward. Mathew Gray was a personality born from the darkness. Now that I, Spencer Reid have acknowledged him I think I can find peace."

"Are you starting to remember about your life before becoming Mathew Gray?"

He thought for a moment. "Not yet. I just remember being Spencer Reid and being happy. I know what my job was but I don't remember the cases I worked on. I know I was good at it. I think I need to keep thinking about that before I try to remember more."

And the million-dollar question that has been hanging over my head for nearly four months:

"What about the people you worked with?"

"When you showed me their pictures I remembered they were my friends. Not much beyond that though. But I am looking forward to figuring it out."

I think I got all I needed from him for now. I decided to stand up. "Here is what's going to happen today: You are going to get a chance to wash up and we are going to get some breakfast in you. The rest of my team will be meeting with you throughout the day and tomorrow we will start to set up a formal therapy schedule. The important thing is for you to relax and trust us. Do you still feel comfortable Dr. Linda Kimura to keep treating you?"

"I don't remember that much about her yet. So that is fine."

"I'll be checking on you later. Have a good day Mr. Reid," I said began to walk to the door.

"It's Dr. Reid," he said with a note of pride.

I stumbled a little. This shocked me the most. It was his catch phrase. I read in every single booklet that the BAU was convinced that he was going to have that inscribed on his tomb stone. I turned and said. "My mistake. Good luck Dr. Reid." I ran out before I lost it.

After closing the door I was preparing to run when I heard: "Try to look happier about the progress you've made Dr. Selzer."

I turned around to see Melvin next to one of the monitors. He was already dressed in office attire.

"Melvin you aren't scheduled to meet with Reid until after breakfast."

"I didn't want miss seeing you meeting with the patient after bringing him back to reality."

I finally let my feelings of frustration out. "It is never this easy Melvin! He had been tortured for months. No one recovers that fast from something like that! He is going to fall again. He is going to-"

"You did an amazing job Maya. I never you thought you could get through to a patient like that. Why can't you feel proud of yourself?"

"I had no idea what I was doing! I developed that idea on the fly. It was a bedtime story. I wasn't sure if it would work when he woke up."

He stared at me for a moment. "Maya go home."

"But I have all my clothes. The restaurant in here is one of the best and I need to-"

"You told me to sideline you if I thought you were losing control. You can work from home. Check on Reid before coming to the meeting at the end of the day. You need to get out of here."

I knew there was no arguing with him at this point. I nodded and smiled. "Thank you Melvin," I said. "I'll always be here for you Maya," he responded.

When I came home I discovered the smell of pancakes. My mother was first to greet me.

"It's about time you got home. The pancakes were getting cold and the bacon is about to break apart," she said.

I walked over and gave her a hug. "Mom, who told you to come here? Was it-"

"You never seem to stop asking questions Maya. We're here for you now and that is all that matters."

My Dad's head popped out of the kitchen. "Ladies you can finish your conversation in here. I have been manning the stove for nearly a half-hour. Come in and enjoy my culinary masterpiece."

We both laughed. I grabbed plate of pancakes and dug in. My parents joined me at the table. "So what can you tell us about what you've been up to lately?"

"Well I actually told bedtime story to help a patient recover from a traumatic incident. Did you know that Manga is also used to describe…

…

Reid went through a course of terrible nightmares about his abduction during the following weeks. One of us would be called to help when he became completely disoriented. He added a few more details of what happened. Everyone followed the script that came from my success with getting through to him. Each member added their own twist. They all made up or used stories to help in find a happier place to fall asleep in. And somehow he always woke up reoriented. I think each of us wondered this could be used to help treat other patients.

He told us how he was beginning to remember parts of his childhood and some of it wasn't pleasant. I decided to let Melvin take the lead in this. Reid truly loved his mother, but at times he felt like he was raising himself after his father left them. Melvin called was called in when he woke up screaming about a particularly nasty bullying incident.

He was also starting to remember what happened while he was with the BAU. One night he was so panicking and howling so much that I was called in find out what he was going through. He told me he needed to be punished. He had his mother locked away. He said should have died for his sins. I managed to calm him down by saying his mother was never completely trapped as she found peace in knowing that all her goodness and wisdom lived on through him.

During the day he talked about how much he hated losing members of the team. He always felt in some way responsible. I told him that was normal in some ways but he couldn't dwell on it. He made a positive impact on their lives and vice versa. Memories were the greatest gift anyone could give, and none of them would ever be completely forgotten.

He described how much he hated feeling weak. He hated how he seemed to be a magnet for abuse. Linda joined me when I described how no one thought he was weak. That his team depended on him to be the one to do the mental heavy lifting when they were breaking doors down and trying to look strong when they were facing down an UnSub.

These are only abbreviated accounts of how Reid over came some of these obstacles. It involved many intense therapy sessions. But as a result he was growing stronger. He had begun to acknowledge that his past was painful but there were some positive results. It gave him the ability the understand victims better by knowing and how their minds responded to questions.

His Mathew Gray persona was always present in some small ways. He still carried himself with a better posture. He didn't twitch as much when I was awake. Sometimes when he launched into long stories about different subjects, he would catch himself and laugh. When he ate lunch with other patients most thought he was charming and easy to connect with (I believe I saw a few women try to tell him where to find him when they got out).

Reid sometimes panicked and worried that he having Mathew Gray inside him wasn't helping him. But I told about my promise to help him keep what he loved about Mathew Gray. And in the end they were both parts of his mind that he needed to get better.

By the end of the fourth week we decided it was time to give him some more freedom. We ordered him some clothes from both lives to be presented them to him. I tried to pawn off the responsibility of helping him choosing his wardrobe to Linda. But everyone voted that down. I had been the one who saw him the most in his Mathew Gray attire, so I'd be able to help him develop his sense of style the most.

He was little shocked by the gift. Then he grew uncomfortable about the idea of trying on different things. It was interesting watch him touch the different materials and act a little a surprised when he liked the touch. I really hated the fashion show part as tried things on to figure how they felt, whether he liked the look, and then turned to me and for my opinion. I told him to choose the clothes made feel comfortable whether it reflected the person he had become.

He said he vaguely remembered purple scarf he used to wear and wondered what it looked like. I had to try very hard to keep a straight face. Both the guys and the women (except Hotch) had lengthy descriptions of this garment, along with personal commentary on what they thought it made him look like. Instead I asked him to take into consideration how it would fit in with the rest of his choices. Before giving him the clothes we had tossed around the idea of calling his former team about sending some of his clothes down. But in the end we decided against it as we still felt it was too soon to get the team involved while Reid was still focused on overcoming his inner demons.

The clothes improved his sense of self significantly. He was beginning to understand that he was getting better as he moved around. A week later we gave him the chance to jazz his room up a little more. He already had access to plenty of books but it was time to put have some cases put up. We gave him a choice of different colored bedding material and art to hang on the walls.

He still had horrible dreams, but the drugs Linda had developed were helping him sleep through the night. He was growing stronger and my heart was swelling with pride. Though he enjoyed interacting with the other patients, I could tell he was longing for stronger connections. I presented my suggestion to the team and everyone agreed it was time.

A few days later Reid and I were sitting in chairs playing chess in his room. He was two moves away beating me when I asked:

"Dr. Reid would you like to start interacting with the people you knew before becoming Mathew Gray?"


	18. Chapter 18: Feeling Wanted

I am suffering from some terrible separation anxiety with regards to ending this story. There are just too many things I still want to write about. I have a feeling I'm going to end up dividing this story once I'm done. Writing this thing is like a drug. Heaven help me.

This by far is the most Criminal Minds character centered chapter I have written. I admit I have been nervous about writing dialogue between two characters and not getting the tone right. This wasn't too hard to write because Reid seems to interact one-on-one with this character the most. Which probably explains why there are entire fans sites devoted to…

All reviews are welcome as always.

Chapter 18:

Feeling Wanted

"Hello, SSA Hotchner."

"So it's Special Supervisory Agent again?" I said playfully.

"Hello Dr. Selzer, it is nice to hear from you. Nothing is official yet. But I was given the key to my office back. We're just starting to unpack."

"Congratulations Hotch," I said.

"Thank you. So what's up? Do you need anything?"

Hotch's ability to sound calm and casual was admirable. There was so many ways to answer this. I had different ways scripted out, but I decided to wing it.

"Hotch he's back."

I could hear the shocked tone in his voice. "What?"

"He doesn't remember everything, but he remembers enough to know he enjoyed working with you and your team. He has become Spencer Reid."

He didn't respond immediately. "That's incredible. That's amazing- That's" he couldn't go on.

"He still has a long road ahead of him. But I think he has gotten through the worst part."

"Does he remember what happened to him?"

I was dreading this moment. "I'd rather not get into that. I called because he wants to hear from you guys. And I think he is ready."

He seemed to be taking a few steadying breaths. "So how is this going to work?"

"Will you and team have access to a computer with a high-definition webcam on Wednesday?"

"Yes."

"I am going call back tomorrow and tell you which team member he would like to talk to for about fifteen minutes through a webcam on Wednesday. Give me an e-mail address and I'll send the rest of the particulars."

"Dr. Selzer. Thank you. My team will be thrilled to hear from him. Even if only one person can talk to him directly."

"I am very happy for you and your team. I'll be calling tomorrow. Goodbye Hotch."

"Goodbye Dr. Selzer."

It would take me a little while, but I was able to find what happened after Hotch got off the phone: A few of the team members were in the bullpen and someone noticed him on the phone. When he got off the phone he leaned onto his desk with his face in his hands. Rossi happed to walk by and went in to ask what happened. He told him and the men hugged. Hotch was a little more composed when he broke the news to the team. It had to have been a site.

…

My team had an imaginary pool going as to who Reid would choose. It was between Derek Morgan and Jennifer Jareau. Mitch and Melvin silently cheered when Reid told us he wanted to talk with Derek Morgan. He proceeded to regret it for fifteen minute before the meeting.

"What if he's mad at for me over what I said about him in Wyoming?"

"He wouldn't have agreed talking to you if he was," I said as I checked the line connections. We had it set up on a desk in Reid's room. He swiveled around in his chair as I worked.

"What if he agreed to do so because I chose him? He didn't want to look like the bad guy in front of the team."

I adjusted the webcam angle. "You did save his life," I said through gritted teeth. We had had this conversation a couple times already. He was starting to on my nerves.

"But I didn't do it alone. He shouldn't feel obligated-"

I grabbed the side of the chair and turned it so that he was looking directly at me. "Dr. Reid everyone is excited to hear from you. Morgan is beyond happy to be the first person to get to speak with his former buddy in the bullpen. Now will you please relax?"

Reid nodded his head. The monitor beeped to signal that the link would ready in thirty seconds. I tried to imagine what Morgan would think when he saw Reid for the first time in four months. Reid was wearing a light blue dress shirt with khaki pants. He had chosen a pair of glasses with brown rims. We had his hair trimmed so it looked a little more rounded but still had a few waves. Basically he didn't look that much different from how he looked Wyoming. But his body language was completely different.

Derek Morgan appeared on the screen dressed in black T-shirt. He had a slight smile his face. "Hey Reid how're you holding up?"

Reid looked a little calmer. "Good Morgan, thanks. How about you?"

"Good. Everything's good."

Then they both sat there in awkward silence. They didn't seem to know what to say despite the number of suggestions I had offered to both sides earlier. I was about to step in to break the ice when-

Reid burst out laughing. "Morgan I actually thought you had a crush on me when you were trying to goad my memories out in Wyoming."

Morgan was cracking up too. "Reid, I was calling you every name I thought I ever used. I didn't think that it was sounding like I was coming on to you."

Reid kept laughing. "I think I was a little delusional too. Thinking that a guy like you who could have any woman in the world wanted this scrawny-looking-"

Morgan was laughing too hard to listen. He gripped the desk for support. He finally looked up. "Very funny Reid. I have never seen this side of you before."

"I know. It is hard for me to gage how I have changed based off people's reactions to me around here."

"So what's it like living there?"

"Not bad, actually. This room isn't much smaller than the living space in my apartment. The food is good, though they are still only letting me drink de-café-"

"Which is probably a good thing."

"I have plenty of reading options. They have given me an old fashioned portable CD player and headphones. And every day I am visited by a revolving door of psychologists."

"Are they treating you alright?" Both of them were having no trouble pretending that I wasn't in the room.

"They are. I have my own 'team' assigned to monitor my progress. It is nice Linda Kimura regularly. The funny thing about the two guys who are treating me is the fact that I have read some of what they have published. Now that I remember more, I try to talk with them about their work. And I think I get on their nerves when I want to talk about the behavior of war veterans has changed based on-" He suddenly stopped and smiled. "I was starting to sound like the Reid you remembered didn't I?"

Morgan was looking both amused and dumbfounded. This kind of self-mockery was completely new to him. "What's it like to be on your head right now? You start to remember parts of who you were and can see how other people perceived you. How does that all in with that Mathew Gray persona you built?"

I was really hoping that the conversation wouldn't go there. But I didn't interfere because it seemed that Reid was comfortable for now.

He laughed. "Why do you think I have four doctors? I believe in Wyoming you thought my attitude, my behavior, and appearance preferences were all an act. That it was a hypnotic state that would only involve the right number of finger snaps to break. It is so much deeper Morgan. I am very comfortable and competent around children. I enjoy seeing blockbuster films. I understand more pop-culture jokes. And though my relationship with Lila Archer was mostly for show, when I went clubs with her, women would give me their phone numbers behind her back!"

Derek Morgan looked he'd just been hit by a truck. This was partly my fault. I didn't talk to Morgan beforehand personally as I didn't want him to develop any pre-misconceptions. I had been working with Reid for over two months and hadn't really taken the time to step back and try to see him from another point of view.

Reid suddenly looked concerned. "I'm sorry I had no idea-"

"It's okay Reid-"

"I threw too much at you-"

"Really its fine-"

"Do you still want me back?" Reid suddenly shouted. There was a note of panic in his voice. This sounded more like the Reid Morgan knew.

Morgan looked at him. "Of course we do Reid."

"But why? It has been nearly two years since I beat you at cards on the plane ride home. When you did see me, I got angry and thought you were trying to make my life miserable. The next time you saw me, you thought I was going watch you get killed for fun. You are talking to me as I sit in a psych ward where padded rooms are still used. What you can you gain from reconnecting with me?" He asked with a tiny squeak at the end.

Morgan kept looking at him. He then shook his head and smiled. "You still don't get it do you?"

"Get what?"

"With all those book smarts and now new social skills, you can't see what's really important"

"Which is?"

"The fact that you're family to us Reid-"

"But I'm not family!" he said angrily. "You have an awesome family in Chicago. Hotch has his kid. J.J. has Henry and her boyfriend. Prentiss- All of you have blood-related families outside the BAU to go home to. All I have is an absentee father and a mother in a psych ward! Most of the time I depended on you guys as being family for me more than the other way around."

Morgan kept the same smile on his face. "Do you have any idea how dull it is around here without you? We've had new agents come in and replace you. All them were friendly, had interesting backgrounds, and good at their jobs. The problem was that on every plane ride home after successfully ending a case we'd sit back and look around. We realized we missed seeing you there with us kid."

"But Gideon and Elle left-"

"But neither of them was at the heart of the team. You were what made our time unique not just because of your genius abilities. You cared about people and knew to reach out some of them when us had no idea how to do so. And you never stopped proving how strong you were. You have gone through a lot and you've always come out on top. And this time is no different."

"Morgan I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to come back to the BAU. Or how much I want to exactly."

"That's not important. What is important is that you have gone through unimaginable things and somehow survived! You are giving me and the rest of our team a chance to reconnect with you. Do you have any idea how great it feels to be talking to you right now?" Morgan's voice choked up. "You have changed. You are stronger. It is a truly awesome site and I am beyond grateful be invited back into your life to see how brave you are."

For few moments both men looked at each other; lost in their emotions of gratitude. It was time to cut things on a strong note.

I stepped forward and leaned in. "Guys I think you have given each other enough to think about for today. I promise I'll set up phone access and e-mail access once I have a handle on how things are progressing. Does that sound fair?"

They both agreed. "It was good talking to you Reid. See you around," Morgan said.

"Same here Morgan. And one last thing: Did you ever figure out who gave you a subscription to Brides magazine?"

He looked at him with a little anger. "You realize how many of my girlfriends went nuts- You evil little-"

I turned off the camera as Reid and I started laughing.


	19. Chapter 19: Family Matters

This is one extremely long chapter with not that much to it, I'm afraid. It is emotional and sweet but the answers to the big questions will be coming in the next chapter. I should have it posted fairly soon.

One little piece of trivia: Almost every name I have created in the last few chapters have something in common.

All reviews are welcome as always.

Chapter 19:

Family Matters

The team had regular contact with Reid for the next couple of weeks. Everyone got a chance to interact with him. I mediated the first part of Reid's conversation with J.J. as there was so much shared guilt. I managed to calm both of them down and they began to talk like friends again. At the end she brought Henry over and he asked Reid where he was. Reid told him that he was living where movies were made and that seemed to satisfy him.

Rossi asked about what it was like being under the care of yours truly. Reid responded with: "She acts professional and goes by the book most of the time. But she is has an extremely sensitive side. In some ways she is almost like a female version of Hotch." I wondered if Hotch was standing in the background and how he felt when he heard that.

Hotch had the hardest time figuring out how to start the conversation. Reid opened it by joking that he thought he didn't look like a kid who could be beaten up such as during when he took down a sniper. When Reid and Hotch were done I sat down in front of the computer as I sent him down to get some dinner. We both stared at each other awkwardly for a moment and then Hotch asked how I thought he was doing.

"He is having a great time talking with you guys. He is feeling more confident and secure. I think things are going very well," I said.

"Some of my team thinks he might be trying too hard to sound casual. He has gone through a lot and seems nervous about letting on how much it still affects him."

"I know."

"You have set up some very strict rules about what we can talk with him about. If you gave us some more information on the exact nature, or even how he started to remember things it would help everyone feel more at ease."

"Hotch that is not your call to make. I really don't think it can be discussed at this point."

"Dr. Selzer I can see from your body language and the tone of your voice it was terrible. Just give us some incite-"

"Hotch you can't think of him as the victim of an UnSub. He is your friend who needs you to see him only as a friend. Please let me my team treat the trauma ."

He looked a little irritated. But I had other things to discuss with him. "I'll let you guys get in contact with him in a few days from now. But right now I need to prepare him for his next big hurtle now that I see he can handle meeting people from his past."

"Which would be?"

"Meeting his mother."

Hotch told me his mother was still completely in the dark about what was going on. One of the agents put a call in and immediately to have a letter sent to her.

My team went back and forth on how to approach the idea of Reid meeting his mom. Every once and a while he'd wake up calling for his mother and we decided to wait until he was a little more stable.

The first problem involved actually calling Mrs. Reid to say that his son wanted to see her in a psych ward. This had to be in person as she didn't trust phones and hated computers. We all had experience with schizophrenic patients, but this was different on so many levels. None of us were excited about speaking with Mrs. Reid. After a half hour Mitch suggested we play a game of not-it to decide who would make the call. I really wanted to do that but we had to brainstorm more ideas. It was eventually decided that I should do it because I had the most experience with patients prone to drastic mood changes.

I placed a call in with her sanitarium and asked to speak with her doctor. I told him about the situation and asked who should be the one to tell her (I know, a last ditch effort). He told me that I needed to be the one to tell her as she wouldn't believe it coming from him. I was put on the phone with Dianne Reid.

"Hello Dianne Reid. This Dr. Maya Selzer, I have some information regarding your son."

She sounded irritated. "What happened to him? Why hasn't he visited me? I know those letters are old. Where is he?" she almost shouted.

"I can assure that he is some place safe and desperately wants to see you. He has been through a rough time and needs the loving touch of his mother."

"He needs me? Where is he?"

"He is at a place called the Worthing Mental Health Institute."

"He is a nut house? Has he gone mad? My special boy can't be-"

"Please Mrs. Reid. I can assure you that Spencer is in complete control of his mind. Sometimes a special man like him needs to get away from this world of hatred and judgmental people. He is in place where he can explore the elegant beauty of his mind in peace."

This seemed to calm her down immensely. "Can I see him? Is there any way I can come and see him?"

I was so glad the desire to run out and protect her son won of over her fears of flying. "This is why I am calling. I was wondering you would be able to get on a plane come and see him. The place where is staying is only a ninety minute plane ride away. Do you think you can handle the trip?"

"I'll do anything for Spencer," she said

I made the arraignments with the sanitarium. They'd have a pair of their staff escort her here. But her doctor admitted that she is easily agitated and hated loud crowd places. I couldn't get a one of our planes sent to retrieve her. I wasn't sure what kind of state she would be in to see Reid.

I decided it was time to thinks outside the box again for this one. My literature-related ideas seemed to be working so well with Spencer's case. I decided to call my parents up to ask if they'd like to take a trip to Las Vegas.

…

Once Dianne Reid and company got off the plane from Las Vegas my Dad called from the airport to say that flight back with her was a delight. She felt at ease most of the time and loved discussing themes in fifteenth century literature with them. I have gotten insanely lucky with regards to handling this case.

I really didn't want to oversee the family reunion. I pleaded with Melvin to take the lead. I didn't have that much experience with this kind of thing and this was going to become a sob-fest fast. He gave me a firm no. He felt I needed to see personally see through this element for both Spencer's and my own emotional growth.

I met Mrs. Reid in a reception area near where he was staying. She looked exactly like a college professor. She was wearing a pink blouse over a long baggy brown skirt. "Mrs. Reid my name is Dr. Maya Selzer. I am the one who is helping Reid feel mentally safe again." I offered my hand and she shook it. "I hope your flight here wasn't too uncomfortable."

"No it wasn't bad at all. You parents are very intelligent people. They have a firm understanding of how the development of the Spenserian stanza influenced English literature. With parents like that you must be extremely bright."

I think that tallied up to two things that I really needed to find a huge way of thanking my parents for doing. "I am very glad to hear that."

She looked at me with her piercing blue eyes. Reid was right about how when she was thinking clearly, she seemed to look into your eyes and stare into your soul. I felt a little nervous.

"What happened to my son?"

"I can't tell you that. Mrs. Reid I am doing what is best for Spencer right now. He needs to see his mother. Please trust me."

She looked at me for a moment a longer. "Okay," she said, "take me to see him."

I walked her through the halls. There was nurse a not far from here in case something went wrong. I knocked and the door and then opened it. Reid was sitting on a couch reading in the living room section. He was wearing brown pants and a white dress shirt. He stood up when he saw us.

"Dr. Reid your mother is here to see you for a couple hours," I said. I had been helping prepare him for the meeting, by telling him what he could and couldn't say. But I honestly knew that it was going to go out the window at this moment.

"Mom?" he said softly.

"Oh Spencer what happened you?" she said as he rushed over to him. He broke down into tears as she hugged him. He clung to her tightly. "Mom, I've missed you."

She began to rock him slightly. "I missed you too, son. I missed you too."

He began to cry harder. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I forgot you."

They both collapsed onto the couch. "I never gave up on you Spencer. Even when people told me you might be dead," her voice cracked with conviction as tears streaked down her face. "I knew my baby was still alive."

"But then I found out who I was and refused to believe it. I chose to-"he broke down as sobbed.

Mrs. Reid gently stroked his hair and made shushing sounds. "It's okay dear. I knew you'd come back to me. A mother knows these things."

I nearly lost it at this point. I think it was Garcia who described some of his mother's favorite phrases. She gently rocked him gently as he broke down in tears in a ways I hadn't seen since he found his memories. I gave Mrs. Reid a ton of credit for handling him so well. But "handling" probably isn't the right word. There some studies on how certain in mental disorders- Maternal instinct trumped psychiatric diagnoses, plain and simple. Dianne Reid was taking care of her son when he needed her the most.

For an hour I watched them from as far away as possible. Occasionally they spoke but most of the time just sat there in a tight embrace. Walking the red carpet the gallery was a cake walk compared to approaching Reid and his mother. I knelt down near them and spoke softly.

"You guys must be getting hungry. Reid can show you how our restaurant makes delicious lasagna."

Mrs. Reid looked up. "They call the dining room a restaurant here?" she said.

Reid calmed down and nodded. "They a have dining hall and a restaurant. Dr. Selzer secured time for us to eat there."

Mrs. Reid slowly got up. "Is there any chance the place the serves wine?"

"None at all Mrs. Reid," I said and smiled as Reid stood up. "Follow me."

…

The Bushel Restaurant resembles a luxury "date-night" restaurant painted in deep reds and small tables and candles. This is actually our second restaurant. Patients do not usually access to it. But I needed place that was quiet and un-crowded on a Wednesday night. They were sitting in a booth against a wall and I sat in another one where I could discreetly watch them from.

"This is quite a swanky place you're living in Spencer," Mrs. Reid commented as she cut into her slice of lasagna.

The tears had slowed significantly once there were plates of food between them. Reid was starting to remember some of my conversation suggestions.

"Yeah it is nice. I guess if you're going have to live somewhere under the watch of psychologists, this is a very good place to end up in," Reid said as cut into his chicken breast.

"Any chance you can get me an invite here?"

Reid laughed. "I'm afraid not."

They talked about music, books, and old films. It was interesting site. As much as Reid hated the fact that he had to raise himself in many ways, he had grown up very attached to her. He remembered her love of Bob Dylan music. They discussed which translations of Beowulf seemed the most accurate. They seemed be having a very nice time while ignoring the giant elephant (or elephants) in the room.

"Your doctor reads crap," Mrs. Reid said.

I looked up. Between slices of slices sausage, I had been reading the latest Jim Butcher novel. I wondered how she noticed as I had removed the jacket. She was looking at me again. I wondered if Jim Butcher got the idea for the "soul gaze" from meeting her.

"To each their own Mom," Reid said.

"So do you like her?" she asked.

"She's a good doctor. She basically saved my life. She-"

"Dr. Reid has always saved himself Mrs. Reid. I'm just providing landing support," I said before he made me sound like a saint.

She turned away from me. "So how long are they going to keeping you here?"

"I'm not sure."

"Well if you're not sure. Why don't you consider transferring over to mine? I asked my doctors about it. They think they could take care of you," she said and ate a few more bites.

I was about to panic when I realized what she was up to. I looked at Reid. Do not take the bait. I tried to say with my eyes.

"I like it here. The people are nice. I think the change of venue would slow my recovery process."

"Fair enough," she said and continued to eat.

I do not think Dianne Reid is evil. But there is something very is something very off about her even when she is lucid. I wondered how many years she took off her doctors with her little games.

I wasn't surprised when Reid asked his mother could stay overnight in his room. I had actually planned on it and had reading materials available. The room would be monitored through cameras as usual and I would be in staff room in case something went wrong. I watched as Dianne read some of Shakespeare's sonnets from the couch as Reid slept.

…

Dianne Reid would be leaving for Las Vegas after breakfast.

When Reid was busy she pulled me aside for moment. I bet Reid never noticed that his mother could also shoot lasers from those eyes.

"I had my doubts, when I met you. You look like your typical dime-a-dozen-shrink who couldn't possibly understand my special Spencer."

I stayed silent. Counting the seconds until one of her staff members found us.

"But then I spoke with Spencer and realized how much you are really helping him."

"Why thank you," I said hesitantly.

"I don't know what happened to him, but I want him to get better. Make sure my boy doesn't have to spend the rest of his life in one of these glorified jail cells like me."

"You have my word Mrs. Reid," I said.

There were only a few more tears when Mrs. Reid left. Her staff wanted my parents for the return trip. They were happy to do so and joked about trying to making a living out of it.

Everything had gone fine. I was beyond grateful.

…

But not every story can have a perfectly happy ending. The next day William Reid appeared at the ground floor reception area demanding to see his son. We had put in phone call to where he worked and at home to tell him that his son was under our care and to call to make an appointment to see him.

I met William Reid in a conference room on the same floor as my office. He looked like a mess with his shirt un-tucked and had a day's growth of beard.

"Where is my son?" he demanded the minute I walked in.

"Hello, Mr. Reid. My name is Dr. Maya Selzer. I am the head doctor of the team treating your Spencer," I said and offered my hand.

He didn't accept my hand. "Team? Why does he need a team? What happened to him?"

"Mr. Reid this is a very complicated situation. I can assure he is getting the best care available."

"Why won't anyone tell me anything? I get a call one day that he's here. But there was no specific information as to why. Then I call Dianne's hospital and find out she's visiting him here!"

"Mr. Reid, we did leave a message saying to call us if to make an appointment to meet with him."

"I talked to the Dianne's doctor's they said you NEEDED her to come and see him! A son needs his father just as much as his mother!"

This is why the therapists who counsel the kids in the middle of divorce disputes get paid the big bucks. I wondered which he was more upset about: Finding out where his son was, or finding out he wasn't as important compared to his wife.

I was done dancing around the big stuff with this guy. "Mr. Reid let's cut to the chase of all of this. As his therapist I know all about how you walked out on him and his mother because of a difficult situation that you only explained to him a few years ago. I am not here to give guilt trip Mr. Reid. Your son suffered some severe memory loss and has only recovered a large portion of it in the past few months. Most the memories of you abandoning him and having to basically raise himself are very fresh in his mind. Reid has maintained regular contact with your ex-wife. We needed to help him re-establish the connection."

I let it sink and watched as a look of defeat come across his face. "My son doesn't want me."

"Not right now. Go home Mr. Reid," I said. "I promise we'll figure out something later."

Reid was waiting patiently on bench on the grounds of the institute. I thought we needed a change of scenery.

"Are you okay Dr. Selzer?"

"Never better Dr. Reid. So let's continue our discussion about your internet access…"

Maybe I'm a bad person for not letting Mr. Reid see his son or not telling Reid- The fact is this: Reid never stopped caring about his mother. I am fairly certain he stopped caring about William Reid years ago.


	20. Chapter 20: Letting Go

Here is the deal: This is one extremely long chapter and it is all connected like its own story. So for the one and only time I will be numbering the breaks.

I have been working long and hard on this chapter all day. I know I am writing this for myself with no deadline but I feel the desperate urge to finish this as soon as possible. So more than a few words will most likely be missed.

No idea where this is going. I love Ireland. I have been there twice. Why not use a few quotes in the penultimate chapter?

THIS IS NOT THE END! I have one short entry planned, and God willing it will up by 9:00 A.M on Monday.

And I am going to break the heart of one of my most loyal reviewers in this chapter. I am so sorry.

Chapter 20:

Letting Go

Oh, call it by some better name,  
>For Friendship sounds too cold,<br>While love is now a worldly flame,  
>Whose shrine must be of gold;<br>-Thomas Moore

…

1

I walked into Reid's room at the end of Tuesday just to ask what his thoughts were about our recent trip to the Mundy Mall. I found him angrily shuffling what looked puzzle pieces around on the coffee table.

"Dr. Reid, what's wrong?" I asked as I walked over to him.

He kept moving the pieces around. "This puzzle! Emily sent it to me. On a plane ride home she was laying the pieces of what is called a star puzzle on the table and said that no could put it together. I figured it out in minutes. Now I can't put it together!"

I mentally cursed Emily Prentiss as I sat next to him. "Dr. Reid that is not the worst thing in the world. She did say that no one could figure it-"

"But I could! This was so easy for me back then and now I can't figure it out."

"Then let me help." I began to pick up pieces. "I bet if we worked together-"

"No!" He said and pushed my hand away and pieces fell on to the floor.

I looked at him. "Dr. Reid, tell me what is really going on."

"If I can't figure something like this out, what hope do I have of being of any use to the team again?"

"Dr. Reid, do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds?"

"But there is more to it. I'm not as good at crossword puzzles. I am occasionally beaten by the computer at chess. And I can't seem to remember how Ted Bundy's M.O. changed over the years."

"We have discussed this at length many times before. Your mental state has changed significantly since you were abducted. Some of your weaknesses have become your strongest points. And some of your other talents have-"

"Been ruined! Right now the team only sees me as their long-lost friend. They have no idea as to whether I'll be as good at my job if I am even able to pass the first round of qualification tests."

I was getting sick of re-hashing these same old questions. "Dr. Reid, my team and I have been working very hard to help you get to this point. You are so much stronger than when you first came here."

"Maybe you should have just stayed away from the start! Maybe you should have never tracked my down in L.A. I was doing perfectly fine in figuring things out. I may have been better at solving things and J.J. wouldn't have-"

I stood up with my fists clenched and walked in front of him. "Will you please stop all of this? You are the happiest you've ever been, while in here. You have a team of doctors who have been working day and night to help you get your life back together. That is really not fair to any of us!"

"But you don't know when I am going to get out! I still have nightmares that require nurses to come in and settle me down. I am still finding pieces of my life that are strange and foreign drift into my mind and I can't seem to figure them out. What hope do I really have of getting out of here?"

There was more to this outburst. Doctors from D.C. psychiatric hospitals the institute was affiliated with had come to visit recently. The plan was to try and get him transferred to one of these places in October. Reid was very polite to the doctors but everyone could see that he wasn't exactly thrilled about changing hospitals or even going into one once he was able to return to D.C.

"Dr. Reid we need to face one challenge at a time. I promised that I would help you figure how you wanted to live your life. You have got to trust me. We are getting there."

"Do you honestly think that or this just your way saying how much you love planning and organizing every part of my life?"

I was really angry right now. "Dr. Reid are you listening to me right now? Are you even listening to yourself?"

He folded his arms to his chest and looked away. He didn't say anything to me.

I let out a huge huff. "We are not getting anywhere right now! Maybe tomorrow Dr. Kimura will be able get through to you. Have a good night."

I walked to the door. He kept looking away from me. I closed the door with a slight thud. I groaned.

I saw Melvin working on some paper work in our base of operations on my way out.

"I'm leaving," I said as I tiredly walked across the room.

He didn't look up. "The plane tickets are on your desk," he said.

"Did you win the pool?"

"No I didn't surprisingly. I was going to give you another day. Either you are getting less predictable or I am losing my touch."

"I'd say the latter."

…

2

Seventy-eight hours later, I was standing on a large boat en route to Yakutat. It was still a surprisingly warm September here. I was only wearing my mid-heavy jacket over a light sweater and a pair of jeans.

I saw a tall African American standing near the railing, watching the scenery pass by. I walked over and stood next to him.

"I hate this cold climate," I said mostly to myself. We could just see the tips of a few mountains.

"So do I," he said.

I glanced over at him. "Really?"

"Yep."

I returned to looking across the water. "So how do two complete strangers who hate this weather end up on the same boat?"

"I don't know about you, but I came to get away from my stressful life for a while. The idea of the weather being the only thing that bothers me right now feels very peaceful," he said, lost in thought.

I nodded and quietly laughed to myself. "That is exactly how I feel."

We stood together in silence for a few minutes. I looked at him. "I'm Maya," I said.

He looked at me and smiled. "Andrew."

…

"You're glowing," were Reid's first words to me when I came back ten days later.

He was sitting on in the out-door porch on the fourth floor reading. He looked so happy to see. I almost wanted to go over and hug him. But I was still trying to keep a few barriers up.

"It is good to see you too Dr. Reid. How are you feeling?" I asked.

"Well I am not the same basket case slash petulant child, the last time you saw."

"I'm glad to hear that," I said as I pulled up a chair next time. "So what else is going on?"

"More memories are coming back. Dr. Morris actually let me drive around the parking lot after visiting hours."

"I think I saw his car in the lot and his name plate somewhere in the building. So there wasn't any damage or mortality."

He laughed at me. "And I'm not sure if your team has told you this yet: The entire BAU team is coming to spend the weekend at a beach house outside Santa Rosa and are going to be spending time with me on every day from Friday 'til Sunday."

This was definitely news to me. I had an extra stop to make and missed the morning staff meeting. When I caught Linda in the hall, she said there was nothing worth mentioning at that time.

"Your team unanimously approved the plan," he said.

"Terrific," I said, trying to sound excited. The old saying is true. When the cat's away, the mice shall play.

He was starting to look at me concern. I quickly snapped out of it stood up. "Come on Dr. Reid. I have a surprise for you."

I led him through the halls to the children's play room. There was Latina woman standing there with her two kids. When they saw him they both rushed to him. "Sr. Gris!" they shouted.

Reid was delighted to see them and knelt down to their level. "It is so good to see you guys!" as he hugged both of them and once.

Carmen slowly walked over with slight smile. "They still ask about you once a week," she said.

"What is this place?" "Why are you here?" "Why are they calling you Doctor Reid?" Both of the boy and the girl asked at once.

I walked over. "Guys, guys, one question at a time! We have the latest version Candy Land in the corner over there. Why don't you go and set it up?"

Carmen nodded at them and they ran. Reid looked at me aghast. "How did you bring them all here? What do I-"

"Dr. Reid you ask too many questions sometimes. Let's go play a couple games before I go and give my team a good tongue-lashing for not telling me about this BAU reunion earlier."

…

3

"Let the lead perpetrator stand and I will spare the lives of his compatriots."

My team sat around the conference table with looks of amusement on their faces. Melvin stood up. "I will proudly take the bullet for my men. I only regret that I have but one life to give." He bowed his head

I clapped my hands. "Always the hero, Melvin. Be seated as I give my judgment," I said as I pulled up a sea. "So how when was this decision made and why wasn't I called? I did have a satellite phone with me at all times."

"They were the ones who called us a few days ago Maya," Linda said. "We talked it over and thought it sounded like a good idea since they will be starting to work cases on Monday. We thought it might be good for Reid to see them before he feels like his interrupting their work."

"Okay very fair point," I said and pulled a note pad of out my bag. "So tell me what you have been doing to prepare him for the meeting?" I looked up and they were staring at me. "What?"

"I think I'm going to recommend a stay in Anchorage for the next staff retreat," Mitch said.

"Ha-ha. The Ice Queen thawed in the coldest state in country." I said and let the team have a good laugh. "Now let's get back to work. Do we have locations reserved for the team…"

We were discussing our preparations for twenty minutes when I impulsively blurted out: "Did Hotch- Agent Hotchner ask where I was?"

"Yes. We told him you were on vacation," Linda said. Everyone looked up and watched me.

"I-I thought about calling, but I was-"

"We told him Reid was doing quite well in your absence," Melvin said. "We have been working with him almost as long as you. He doesn't solely depend on you for help."

"I know. I know," I said. They were absolutely right. Reid was getting stronger. Part of the reason for my trip was to see if both he and I could handle being apart for while. That time would be coming soon.

"So is there another reason for asking about Hotch? I'm sorry Agent Hotchner," Melvin said with his eyes twinkling.

My cheeks grew red and I groaned. "Alright so how about eating options? I was thinking…" We have been working very hard together for a long time. These people knew me way too well.

…

4

"What do I tell them about what happened to me?" he asked we walked around the vacant group meditation room. The walls were covered in soft shades of pink, purple and gray. There were fountains in the corners and a rock garden lining a wall.

"You know they're going to want to ask. We keep stringing them along with indirect answers. Even while we're doing 'fun' stuff the question is still going to be on their minds."

I had finally decided to it was time to answer the question head-on. "Tell them whatever you feel comfortable with telling them. Heck, I'd suggest telling them things you feel slightly uncomfortable about.

This was a shock to him. "What? Why?"

"Because their minds keeping going to the darkest places imaginable. Which probably isn't that far off the mark in some ways."

"But then every time they look at me after that they'll envision what I went through. I don't want them to look at me like that!"

"But thing is you're here. You're alive! You stood up and reclaimed what was rightfully yours! You need to stare them in the eye and show that what happened to you did not destroy you. If they are really as good at their jobs as you say they are, they will not let their emotions cloud their perceptions of you."

"But, I'm in a psych ward. And we still don't know when I'll be able to leave."

"Dr. Reid I am tired of having this conversation. There are no easy answers. You are here to figure out how to re-build your life and we have no way of figuring out an exact recovery timeline from this uniquely disturbing trauma. I know we keep going in circles and you are just as tired of hearing the 'tomorrow, tomorrow' song as much as I am. All I can tell you is to focus on having fun with them. If they ask about when you might be leaving, remind them about how they never gave up on you went missing fourteen months. Now they that they know where you are they should feel even more hopeful about you returning home."

He smiled and nodded his head. "Thank you Doctor Selzer." We began to walk around the room again. "Did you know that the creator of Annie originally used the comic strip as a way to protest FDR's New Deal…"

I didn't feeling stopping him this time. Reid didn't seem to.

I think it is time I finally explained why Mitch Dunn is really on my team. I did not just pick him at random to even out the numbers. He only sees Reid periodically except when he is needed to cover for one of the other members. He is mostly called in to meet with Reid when he is going through another memory relapse in which he thinks he is still being held in that basement. He tries to learn as much as he can from Reid's descriptions of the people and the places he saw. Mitch is charged with the terribly emotionally-draining task of repeatedly listening to that recording of what happened when Reid felt he was trapped again to try to envision the setting. Once a week at night he meets with an FBI agent from the special torture and abduction analysis task force. Almost no one in the bureau knows about it and it is Garcia-hacking-proof. Mitch knew who to contact from start I have been letting him handle things with little direction from me. I really did not want to know much about it until it resulted in the arrests of the perpetrators, which might not ever happen. It also made it easier for me to act clueless in front of Hotch about the fact that the things that happened Reid were so uniquely horrible there might be away to track his kidnappers down.

…

5

It was Friday afternoon. The BAU had just entered the second floor reception area. I quickly checked my appearance in a mirror on my way down. I wore a light lavender cardigan over a white shirt and gray slacks. I needed to look less like the domineering figure the last time they saw me.

Everyone had dressed casually for the day. Even Hotch was wearing a short-sleeve dress shirt. When they saw me enter, no one spoke. They stared at me. I felt extremely nervous. I was helping Reid, but I wondered if they still hated me for forcing them to abandon him.

Then they did something completely unexpected: They began to clap.

I stepped forward. I was blushing, overwhelmed, and completely shocked. "Agents I truly do not deserve this."

"Like Hell you don't," Derek Morgan said as the clapping died down.

"When you're not looking, Reid never stops talking about you," Emily Prentiss said. "You have helped him more than you know."

"Who knows what might have happened if you didn't chase after him," Jennifer Jareau said.

When David Rossi started to speak I had to cut things off. "You guys did not come here to bow down and worship me! You really don't want to stroke my enormous ego." I walked over the door. "It is time to begin the Reid celebration field day!" I waved everyone forward.

When everyone filed into the elevator I caught a glance at Hotch. He smiled at me and I tried to return it.

…

6

I took them down to the recreational therapy center. In the lobby I introduced the members of my team to them. I explained that none of us would be watching through cameras or from the observation floor. We would all be joining in on the fun.

Reid was waiting in the billiards room. He was wearing sneakers, a blue polo shirt, and cargo pants. He was nervously playing a game by himself when we arrived.

"Dr. Reid, are you willing to meet with the agents who knew you as Dr. Spencer Reid for the first time in almost five months," I said in the same authoritative voice I used in Wyoming.

Reid stopped playing. His body language straightened. He had a look of agitation on his face. I felt the team tense a little.

"Does that mean I can finally have that Jim Butcher novel you've been reading as soon as they're done?"

For a split second the air felt tense. Reid and I began to crack up. I believe Morgan was the first person to say he was an annoying prankster as they rushed to him. Everyone piled on to give him a hug as was expected in this situation.

Hotch hung back a little. "In addition to treating Reid, you have also shown him how play to your special mind games," he observed.

"He's a quick learner," I said.

…

7

They played every game available in the Rec. center. Morgan tried to show how Reid how to perform a perfect lay-up. Reid then proceeded help J.J to beat him and Hotch by fifteen points in a five-minute game. Everyone seemed to forget that he was the statistician on the high school basket-ball team. It turned out Penelope Garcia knew something about golf and joined Rossi in playing with Reid in the putting course (In case anyone was wondering about her sweet Kevin: He was actually transferred to Okinawa. Someone had sent him a very nasty break-up note in Garcia's name so he never tried to track her down. They had issues to work through after that). Prentiss then failed miserably in showing him how to play tennis. My team joined every once and while during breaks. Sometimes we played our own game in a nearby location. Everyone was having fun. There was no need to intrude.

When everyone had worn themselves out we took them on to an outdoor patio for a dinner of burgers and hot dogs. Reid threatened to them about all the ingredients of in a hotdog and that got moans and laugher (okay I chose the meal plan, I can't help the fact that I love setting up this stuff). The BAU began to ask my team questions about themselves and how they got involved. Each member also threw an anecdote about Reid in. Melvin ruffled Reid's hair and said he was the most interesting patient he has ever had. Mitch said that he didn't think he could find a person who had all his research memorized including the exact statistics. Linda said that was simply a pleasure to work with him. Reid kept try to dispute all these things by pointing he was difficult sometimes and he didn't remember Appendix B of Mitch's 2007 article.

Then they turned their attention to me. I talked about my time at Stanford purposely sounded uppity about what I did to earn a position at the Institute. When I was done they kept looking at me, waiting for me say something about Reid. I sat there speechless. I couldn't begin describe how much he meant to me. There was just no way.

"Ah the sound of silence," Melvin said. "Dr. Reid is the only patient I have treated with Maya where she didn't have a sarcastic answer for everything. He actually put her in her place occasionally. It was truly delightful."

Everyone laughed and the subject of conversation changed. I threw Melvin a grateful glance. He caught it with a slight smile. I think Hotch noticed it too. And given the fact that every single person at the table had some training in behavioral analysis, I had no doubt everyone else did too.

There were hugs and good-byes when everyone left by 9:00. My team decided to wait until morning to find out how Reid was feeling. He was wiped and so was everyone else.

…

8

When I spoke with Reid in the morning he was very relaxed. He said he had enjoyed himself and never felt pressured or nervous. Today Reid was going to showing the girls around the mall and catch a movie with the rest of the team. The team was going to treat him to a dinner afterwards. Before today's festivities started up, Reid pointed out that Hotch kept looking at me when he thought no one paying attention. I just went red and changed the subject.

I made a point of not being involved in anything today. Melvin was going to hang around the mall, Mitch was going to watch the movie, and Linda would be eating with them since she did know them before all of this happened. I need for Reid to figure out how to communicate without me in the background and I needed to call someone.

"Hey Maya, do have any plans tonight?"

I looked up from the Anita Blake novel was reading in the staff lounge. I was hanging around here in case anything happened. I not doubt that anything would and was peacefully laying on a couch. Melvin had just returned from the mall. "Do I ever these days?" I said.

"Well you do tonight. We, Reid's counseling team, have been invited to La Casa Rossi for an after diner cocktail hour."

"Go have a good time," I said returning to my book.

"We aren't going."

I turned my book down. "Why not?"

"Because everyone on this team knows that the invite was given to all of us out of courtesy. They want to see you."

"Why would they want me all to their self except, to maybe throw me into the ocean? Which I wouldn't recommend given the tides in the area."

"You know your excessive levels humility has become extremely irritating."

"Now you know how it feels like to work with you."

Melvin grabbed my book out of my hands. "You never stopped caring about him, even when you had no idea where he was. Reid told me how hard a time he gave you in that alleyway before agreeing to come with you. You have helped Spencer through the darkest hours of his life. You have stayed and coached him through every part of the process. LET THE AGENTS SHOW HOW GRATEFUL THEY ARE!"

I was wondering what I would do once I left this place and didn't have Melvin in my corner. I slowly got up. "I assume you'll have me held for twenty-four hours if I don't," I said.

"No, worse," Melvin said. "I'll make you tell me about your thing for Hotch."

…

9

Melvin informed me that the event at The La Casa Rossi required casual attire. I wore a knee-length paisley cotton dress with sandals. I arrived there 7:00 holding a bottle of wine and when I rang the bell. David Rossi appeared at the door in shorts and sandals. He took one look at the wine. "I wouldn't even serve that stuff to my lousy house-keeping staff."

I walked through the door. "I'm so glad I didn't bring the one I bought with a coupon from the mall."

Rossi led me through the decent-sized house to the large family room in the back. It had a huge picture window that had a perfect view of the ocean. There was light jazz music playing the background. Members of the team were sitting or standing around with glasses of wine in their hands. I felt I had been invited to the cool kid's party by mistake.

"Our guest of honor has arrived," Rossi said. They all looked in my direction and smiled. Hotch approached me.

"Thank you for coming Dr. Selzer," he said with one of his dreamy smiles that still looked like it cracked his face.

I wave my hands a little as I blushed. "Thank you for having me. And before this goes further I would really like for all of you to call me Maya, for tonight and tonight only."

"Are there any other rules you'd like to add," Prentiss said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. They all looked little annoyed with me and I dearly regretted agreeing to all of this. They then broke into laughter.

"You aren't the only one knows the game Maya," Morgan said.

I went over and grabbed a wine glass. "I have no doubt I deserved that."

The rest of the hour wasn't nearly as awful as I imagined it would be. It was Hotch who established a moratorium on conversation relating to Reid's treatment. We basically took the time to learn more about each other as opposed to hearing snippets from other sources. It was fun to sit down and find out what these people were really like compared to Reid's descriptions. They asked what it was like to living in a place that didn't have really huge season changes. I asked about how a go-bag is created as Reid never gave a good answer. They also asked about my family. It was a very pleasant evening but I could sense something else was going on here.

Hotch stood up and offered me his hand. "Maya, come take a walk with me," he said.

…

10

We both held our shoes as walked barefooted along the beach. The sunset was spectacular. This would have been an extremely romantic walk if it weren't for the serious nature of the conversation.

"My team and I had a great time with Reid this weekend. Thank you," Hotch said.

"I think my team enjoyed it just as much as yours," I said.

We walked in silence a little while. Hotch spoke first. "I was wondering if that million-dollar-salary could be negotiated down."

"I think so. I'd be willing to settle for nine hundred ninety nine thousand and not a penny less."

"We have hired psychologists before."

"And you will after."

Hotch stopped walking and looked at me. "Maya you have shown that you are excellent at reading people, can take initiative, and work well under pressure."

"I also have problems with authority figures even though I am one, get very snippy at people when I'm tired, and at reading maps."

"You also know how to take criticism and learn from it. Your attitude and behavior has changed significantly since I met you in Wyoming."

"And there I thought I was perfect," I said. I was having a hard time thinking of snippier retorts.

"Maya! Why are you resisting? You'd be good at the job and you know it."

"But what about Reid? He still has some recovering to do-"

"Don't change the subject. This is about you. You getting to help people at a pace where the stakes are higher and the rewards are greater."

I took a few steps backwards into the water. "Hotch I don't want the job!"

"Why not?"

"For every reason Mathew Gray gave in Wyoming. I don't want to see death on a daily basis. I don't want to have to meet with families on the worst days of their life-"

"What other options do you have?"

"What?"

"I had your work contract looked up. And don't blame Garcia as I ordered it. You agreed to leave The Worthing Institute once Reid recovered and stopped needing out-patient therapy."

"I can find another job Hotch. It is not that hard given my field of expertise."

"It was also noted that you are being black-listed from applying at every major health center in the state."

Damn I was hoping that note wasn't placed on the electronic file. "Hotch, you know I always have a plan. I know what I am doing."

He looked extremely flustered, upset, and I hated where this was going. "Then what about me?"

"What Beth? Reid remembers you running a marathon-"

"This isn't about her either. You and I have been dancing around each other for months. My team has picked up on it and I'm sure yours has also. Don't we owe it to ourselves-"

"Hotch no!"

I he took a step towards me. "I see the way you try not to smile when I walk into the room-"

"Hotch-"

"I knew since the minute I watched you leave in Cortland that here was something special about you. When you came back into my life I knew that-"

What I would have given for a lighten bolt. "Please Hotch-"

He pulled me into his arms and kissed me. It was one of the sweetest, most intense, kisses I've ever had. He kissed with a level of maturity that I had never experienced with men closer to my age. I found myself kissing him back. It felt euphoric-

This is the part in the movie and/or the story where the male and female lead characters finally admit their feelings for each other and kiss at the climax. In a book this is where the story ends. In a movie this might be where the characters continue to kiss as they collapse onto the soft beach as waves begin to lap over them (Wasn't From Here to Eternity a great movie?) and then the camera pans out. Not this time.

I finally pushed away from him and nearly fell. "Hotch stop! This can't be happening."

He was almost on the verge of tears. "Why not?"

"I am not mother material. I hate the idea of living on the East Coast. I am not good enough for you!"

"Aren't willing to take any risks to go after what you want? And how are you not good enough for me?"

"You carry a ton of grief every day. I know about your wife. And your attack and how the scars must itch occasionally. Reid takes the loss of every member of the team personally. I have no doubt that you do also no matter how hard you try to hide it. You are in so much emotional pain without consciously knowing it most of the time. I am not sure I can handle living with that."

He looked beyond frustrated. He turned away from me for a second and then said. "What the heck is that supposed mean? O wait, how about Reid? Why did you go after him? You flew down to L.A., make contact with a C.I.A. friend that probably got him killed, and chased after him into a gallery that you thought was death trap. Why aren't you willing to take that big a risk with me?"

"Do not compare yourself again Reid. He needed my help-"

"You think of him just as much like a child as we do! You thought you were the only one who could help him and you just happened to be right!"

"Thank you for acknowledging that I just happen to be right! I just happen to be the one who held his hand as he relived the worst days of his life. I just happen to be the one who convinced him that at his darkest hour, YOU WERE HIS GUIDING LIGHT!"

I hit him really hard with the last one. He took a few steps away from me and I could hear him start to cry.

I couldn't watch this. I picked up my shoes from where they fell during the kiss. "Thank Rossi for the drinks for me!" I shouted as I walked away.

…

11

It was just past midnight when I arrived at the institute. I found my in the observation room overlooking Reid's. I pulled the couch close to the window and laid down.

There was a faint glow to the room through the use of embedded wall lighting. I could see him sleeping on his side. No dreams seemed to bothering him tonight. I bet like he was remembering how great the weekend was. He looked so peaceful. I admit in some ways I do see him as a child. But I admire and respect him as a man. I don't think I have ever met a more remarkable person. He was capable of doing much better things than me. I was grateful to have him in my life, knowing that I would have to let him go eventually.

I couldn't tell Hotch that I knew him and Reid would never be in my life forever. I couldn't tell him that since all of this started that I had been secretly longing for a way out. I am not usually this brave. Being required to be this brave all the time was killing me. I also had an extremely solid family support base that I couldn't keep hurting through lies or having them worry about what risky situations that I would be throwing myself into on a regular basis. This was their life, not mine.

I watched him silently roll over. I did not believe in God usually but tonight I was willing to make an exception. I thanked God for letting me be the one to help him in his hour of need. I believed in this one even less-I begged God to forgive me for breaking Aaron Hotchner's heart as I cried myself to sleep with one of his brightest lights below me.

NOT THE END


	21. Chapter 21: The Journey Home

Final notes: Look for an end note. I am a schmaltz.

Chapter 21:

The Journey Home

"Some men see things as they are and ask why. Others dream things that never were and ask why not."  
>-George Bernard Shaw<p>

St. Nicholas Day is a feast-day that honors different people according to the country it is celebrated in. In France, it is man who saved three children from being butchered and spiced ginger bread biscuits are made as part of the celebration. In Germany and Belgium it is a man puts gifts in the shoes of children who leave them near the chimney. The idea behind the celebration is this: A man who helped children is honored with the tradition of giving gifts to children on this day. Many children who live in poverty wait for this day to find proof that someone is watching out for them. It seems fitting that Spencer Reid would be arriving in Washington D.C. on that hope-filled day.

Reid had been living in an apartment mid-way between The Institute and Downtown Sacramento since mid-October. He had hated the idea of living in a psychiatric facility in D.C. where he knew his old apartment was not far away. He also hated the idea of just living in a city where he could walk around freely but still not be able to work in the BAU as he had some problems to work through. So during his out-patient treatment he worked as a part-time research consultant at FBI office in Sacramento. He also tutored children at the library once a week. And he had another more personal reason for wanting to complete his formal treatment in the Golden Gate State.

What happened after September is not exciting or worth mentioning at length. I only met with him once a week starting in November. He kept in contact with the BAU regularly and even provided some fresh insight on the cases for them every once and a while. A couple members had dropped by once or twice and these meetings went unsupervised. I'm still not sure how much he has told the team about what happened to him as I was no longer needed to coordinate the meetings.

Both Dianne and William Reid came down to celebrate Thanksgiving at The Institute. My reliable Melvin offered to mediate the meal as my family was located further down state and his family always ate the meal later in the evening.

He was actually the only member of my team left here at that point. Mitch Dunn had joined the FBI special task force to track down Reid's monsters. Linda Kimura returned to her job in D.C. and helped prepare therapy schedule for Reid when he returned.

It was after Thanksgiving when Reid visited me at my office and asked if I thought he was ready to return. I had been waiting for this day. I stood up and said: "Go home and be free Dr. Reid."

I was driving Reid to the airport and he was looking out the window, lost in thought.

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

He looked at me with mild irritation. I laughed. "This is probably the last time I'm going to be asking you this on my home turf," I said.

He looked out the window again. "It feels weird. I have never really thought about any place as home outside of the DC Quantico area. Yet something about this place feels peaceful. I honestly think I rediscovered how to enjoy and engage in life here. In some ways more as I got out and involved in things that weren't crime-related."

"You aren't having any second thoughts are you?"

"No. I am actually more eager to learn if I can find something like this in D.C."

"I'm glad to hear that," I said.

Suddenly he touched my hand on the steering wheel. I looked at him and we were both close to tears before even making it to the airport. "Everything is going to be fine Dr. Reid," I said.

He whispered thanks and relaxed his head against the head-rest. "Are you ever going to tell me about what went down between you and Hotch?"

I kept my eyes firmly on the road. "Never in a million years Dr. Reid."

…

Melvin was waiting at the airport. "I really couldn't let the guy who proved that Maya has heart leave without saying one last goodbye," he said.

Reid and Melvin shook hands. "You know you could have just rode in the car with us. I know you were trying not to make me feel like a kid in the backseat. But given the rise of fuel prices and the rate of pollution…"

Melvin and I just looked at each other. We didn't think there was a thing that we wouldn't miss about not having him around.

"I wonder how long I can get away with prattling on like this before the BAU remembers that I have learned how to stop myself," he said with a smile.

He was dressed in a long sleeved navy blue dress shirt with the collar unbuttoned with a pair of khaki pants. It was going currently forty-eight degrees in D.C. I helped him figure out what outer-wear to pull out before he got on the plane to D.C. as he would be flying to Long Beach first. I believe the flight time in total was close to six hours. He had a long trip ahead of him, but it easily paled in comparison to everything else he went through.

He looked so strong and confident as he picked up his ticket at the kiosk. I was beyond proud of him.

He suddenly approached me. "Dr. Selzer this is something I have been wanting to give you for a long time." He pulled opened his shoulder bag and pulled out a small thin package wrapped in green paper. "This for you," he said as he handed it to me.

"Dr. Reid you didn't have-"

"But I wanted to. Please open it."

I carefully unwrapped and nearly cried. It was my card encased in a picture frame.

"I threw everyone else's out. But I kept yours. Before the gallery event I gave to Carmen for safe keeping as I knew she would have it sent to back to me."

I just looked at it, at a loss for words.

"I also wrote my name on it in case you forgot about me," he said with smile.

"How could I ever forget about you Dr. Reid?"

"You never know what strange things might happen," he said. "And please can you call me Spencer from this point on?"

I nodded, fighting back tears. "Then it is only fair that you should call me Maya," I said.

"And you can call me Melvin," Melvin interjected. "I really think you should get in the airport security line if you don't want t be stuck with us for another day."

We both smiled and nodded. I approached him first and hugged him. "Goodbye Spencer Mathew Reid," I said (he had added the name Mathew a while ago as a way of acknowledging the positive aspects that persona brought to his life.)

He hugged me back. "Goodbye Maya Emily Selzer," he said.

He then walked over and shook hands with Melvin. "Goodbye Melvin," he said. "See you around Dr. Reid," Melvin said.

He began to approach airport security line. He looked back once and gave us a quick wave.

Melvin and I could still see him as he waited for his turn in the long line

"You know one thing keeps nagging me about this whole case," Melvin said.

"Only one?" I said without taking my eyes off the line.

"I keep wondering how Rothchild managed to find all that dirt on you to throw in your face at the exhibit."

"I could care less," I said.

"I and a few other people did. An internal investigation concluded recently and a certain administrator will out of a job for selling personal profile information about both patients and doctors to the highest bidder."

"I hope they found out the names of all the people she did that to," I said my voice was growing more somber by the minute I as saw the line shorten.

"Did you ever find a buyer for your house?"

"Would you believe how dead the real estate market in Sacramento is right now?"

I saw in my periphery Melvin pulling out an envelope. "I stole this from your mail yesterday. It's not time sensitive. I just thought you'd like to have it as Spencer starts his journey." He handed it to me.

I took it without even looking at it.

"Not even curious?" he said.

"Not even for a second," I said.

Melvin and I stood in silence for as he went through the security check point.

"You are really going to miss him," Melvin observed.

"Yeah," I said as I watched him put his shoes back on. I was on the verge of tearing up fast.

"You know they say if you love someone, "Melvin said.

Reid waved back at us one last time before vanishing around the corner.

I finished waving and started to cry.

"He was never mine Melvin. Never mine."

"If you love someone, set them free. If they come back they're yours; if they don't they never were."-Richard Bach

Epilogue:

Reid was the first to finish reading it and sat in silence.

He and the rest of the BAU had arrived just in time for Dr. Maya Selzer-Dworkin's funeral. She had been killed by a drunk-driver while on her way home from dropping her daughter off at a sleep-over. At some point after Reid left she had found her faith in the church. He nearly started to cry when he heard the Light of Christ song. She had never told him about it.

During the funeral brunch Melvin Morris approached their table holding a stack of thick spiral-bound booklets. He told them that she wanted them to have them in the event of her untimely death. He suggested that they read it on the plane ride home.

Jennifer Jareau was the first to speak. "It is beautiful," she said as she wiped away a tear.

David Rossi had read it with a more critical eye. "Her style is very little shaky at the beginning. And there are some definite problems in chapter organization. But all in all, it does have some publishing potential."

Morgan stared it with confusion. "What I don't get is why wanted us to have it? It doesn't seem like it was written for us," he said and suddenly let out a tiny huff of pain. He had nearly pulled his back out from picking up both of his twins at the same time again. It was sign of a truth that he still wasn't ready to accept. He was no longer the man to bust the doors down during a raid. He was not in any way less strong and powerful. His strength was just needed little more in the background to call the shots. No one on the team had gotten up the nerve to tell him that just yet.

"This is essentially her confession to us in some ways. She probably just wanted some specific other people to know about what happened," Mitch Dunn said. He had replaced Emily Prentiss after returning from his special FBI mission. Before officially joining the team he told them about his role in the discovery of a special torture prison facility in Nebraska that resulted in over twenty-three arrests and the recovery of twenty people who had been considered missing for varying lengths of time.

"It answers so many questions but opens up so many more," Aaron Hotchner said. He seemed to take the news of her death even harder than Reid. He looked like had been trying not to cry throughout the Mass and brunch. But he seemed to have calmed down a great deal. He put down the booklet and gently twisted his wedding ring. He and his wife were going to be making a big decision soon, and he was still nervous about where it might lead.

"So what do you think of it Reid?" Morgan asked. "You are the 'lead character' in the story. What do you think of your 'portrayal?'"

"The Precious Moments figurine was one I had never heard before," he said. Everyone laughed.

"But still. Don't you feel a little exposed after having her give an account of what happened to you?" Rossi asked.

"There is nothing in here that most of you guys don't already know about," he said.

"So why do you think she wrote it?" Dunn asked with interest.

"She wrote it because she wanted to tell a story. This is the turning point of her life written here. She needed people to understand that she was doing what she thought was right. Nothing more, nothing less. This is a story about love, heartbreak, betrayal, and the desire to find peace. She gave it to us as her final gift of love and gratitude."

Of anyone on the plane, Reid had changed the most. He had matured and was more contemplative. He was no longer "the boy genius" on the team. He had become the pillar of wisdom. He had become more assertive when it came to planning of courses of action. There were some tradeoffs as he could no longer figure out some of the puzzles left by UnSubs and it still got under his skin occasionally. But things would be changing in the BAU sooner rather than later. The team was wondering what colors the Morgan and Reid would be painting their offices.

Reid looked out the window. It would be late when the plane landed. Ramon was most likely playing his Dungeons and Dragons game online. Isabelle was probably trying to get enough sleep before her swim meet tomorrow.

But his Angela. His little Angela was probably still wide awake. No matter how many bed-time stories Carmen told her, she would still refuse to go to bed until he opened the door and she could leap into his arms to welcome him home.

The End

Final Note from KESwriter:

Wow! This was probably the most labor-intensive work of fiction I have ever written. I really hope you all liked it!

I know the ending packed quite a punch. My reason for killing off my own lead character is this: She is not part of the Criminal Minds Universe. I didn't plan on killing her in the beginning but I felt that it gave a more definite answer as why I won't be using her in another story. I wanted to place someone that universe to provide new a perspective of characters and themes in the show. I am so sorry if I let some of down by doing this.

I don't know what I going to write next. I know I will not be writing here for while in order to meet some real-world deadlines. I kind of like how Jane Lynch has had such a diverse number roles in both the world of film and TV. I might try to spin a story that around what Dianne Reid is thinking about when she is sitting in front of that window for hours at a time. But most likely I'll be returning to super-hero fan fiction work.

But I am not quite done with this story just yet! I will be making revisions such as cleaning up grammar, and cutting descriptions and maybe diving some chapters. Just don't expect it to happen this week.

One final note: The names of characters and places I have been using in the last few chapters are variations of the names of the writers on the show. I tried to use the names of those who wrote the most "Reidcentric" episodes. It is just my small way of acknowledging the people whose work makes all Criminal Minds fan fiction possible.


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